Trials, Tribulations and Textbooks
by DeadlyBlue
Summary: When the Vargas brothers are sent to the prestigious World Academy, they soon discover school life there isn't as simple as it seems. As they start to settle in, they find personality clashes, school fights and general education are the least of their worries. Multiple pairings such as Spamano, USUK, FranceXEveryone etc. Use of human names, set in alternate universe school life.
1. Un nuovo inizio

**Trials, Tribulations and Textbooks**

**Chapter 1**

**Un nuovo inizio / A new beggining.**

Feliciano gazed out of the car window absent mindedly, hands folded in his lap. His chocolate coloured eyes took in the new surroundings as he was driven down the winding country road. Their car turned a corner onto an excessively large drive way leading up to the main entrance of the prestigious World Academy W. Trees dotted the edge of the carefully manicured terrain and two huge iron gates could be seen looming up ahead, the signs of reaching his destination. As they drew closer, the gates opened, allowing them to pass beyond the secure walls surrounding the grounds of the academy.

The World Academy had an impressive history, for over a hundred years being the gateway of leading education to some of the worlds wealthiest and most privileged. This school had seen many a politician, royal and multi-billionaire pass through the halls and classrooms, setting an example for each generation. The academy itself sported an impressive amount of land, which included the enormous main building, with the sports field next to it, housing the classrooms such as an award winning music and arts department, state of the art science laboratory, the expansive library and also the student cafeteria. Behind the main building the gardens were situated, the centrepiece being a beautifully sculpted monument to the academy's founder depicting him kneeling with the world on his shoulders. Just beyond the gardens lay the academy's unique student accommodations, set out as a quaint, miniature English village. The academy's aim for this unusual set up, was to help prepare the students, to teach them responsibility whilst treating them as adults with their own space. It was already common knowledge that the students were self sufficient from their upbringings, that they were trusted to house-share at the academy from the age of twelve.

A deep sigh caught Feliciano's attention. He glanced over to see the dark aura, surrounding his brother, Lovino. A deep set scowl was fixed upon his face, and the younger Italian could hear the music blaring from the headphones in his ears. He gave his brother a sad smile.

He knew Lovino wasn't happy about them coming here, but it was their parents wishes. Things had become worse back home in Italy. Their father was a top government official, key in a new initiative to stopping the Italian Mafia, which had since begun to get way out of hand. This in turn had made the Vargas family the top target on _Camorra's _and other criminal gangs' list and to ensure the brothers' safety they sent them abroad to World Academy for their studies.

Lovino glared back in response, as their driver announced their arrival.

"We're here, _Signore_." He said as he opened the door for Feliciano, "I'll take your bags to your accommodation before I leave."

Feliciano climbed out of the opened door and reached to shake the driver's hand, "_Grazie_ for everything, Mister Russo!" He gave him a warm smile, resisting the urge to hug him. His mother had on many occasions scolded him about his over friendly attitude to strangers and had constantly reminded him about showing decorum. At the present moment he was trying really hard to take those words on board, even if it was against his genuinely cheerful nature.

Mr Russo returned the smile and gave him a formal bow, before walking around to the other side of the car to open the door for Lovino, "It's my pleasure,_ Signore_, but where's your brother?" He asked in a rather confused tone.

The hyper Italian quickly looked inside the car and then around him, before noticing Lovino halfway towards the building, heading for the reception. He gave a nervous laugh and ran after him, "_Fratello_, wait!"

* * *

Lovino was already at the desk by the time Feliciano reached him, demanding attention from the receptionist, whist she poignantly ignored him.

"_Hey rospo-donna! Fate attenzione a me accidenti a te!_" He yelled whilst slamming his fist on the desk angrily, causing several pots of pens to topple over. She however just glared, equally as annoyed, back up at him.

Feliciano at that point hurried over to his brother's side, apoligising profusely for his brother's bad words, "_Fratello_, that's not very nice! Did you even think of using English? We _are_ in England now!"

"I did, but this _stupido_ woman still ignored me!" He huffed, folding his arms moodily.

Feliciano glared at his brother before turning towards the receptionist, "I am so sorry, ma'am, for Lovino's words towards you. He just gets like this sometimes and he's very hot headed!"

The receptionist just looked coldly up at Lovino, replying in just as fluent Italian, "_Marmocchio pomposa_, I understood what you said very well. To do my job I have to be bilingual, as you _must_ forget, we are an academy full of students from many countries some whom don't even speak fluent English."

Just as Lovino, whom was at that present time huffing and puffing at her insult, was about to retaliate, the headmistress' head popped out of her office just down the corridor and she smiled politely as she recognised the brothers from their school pictures on the paperwork. She trotted towards them across the marble flooring on her smart, black high heels and offered a hand to Lovino.

"Ah! The Vargas brothers, am I right?" She asked, the professionalism of her job coming out in the smile she gave off, "Welcome to our Academy, Lovino, Feliciano." She said, nodding to each boy respectively, "I trust you travelled well?"

The youngest of the two grinned back, letting his friendly nature get the better of him finally, and replied with an enthusiastic, "Yes, ma'am!"

However, the only thing that came from Lovino's mouth was a half hearted grunt, probably the only reply he would give that day.

The tall, curly blonde haired headteacher laughed politely, "You are most likely tired, I see. Well, I am Amelia Cavendish, your new headteacher, I run this Academy. You may call me Ms Cavendish, I expect yourselves to have the politest manners around me and every other member of staff and to behave with the utmost decorum on school grounds. Now, if you will follow me, I'll show you my office so we can go over some things."

She ushered the boys down the corridor into her spacious office and gestured to the seats in front of the mahogany desk. Taking a seat on the other side, she flashed another well practised, newspaper worthy smile, "Well, boys. After reading through your papers, I see you come from a rather privileged and prestigious background."

Feliciano nodded, Lovino had no reaction, or rather he was more distracted by whatever trinkets appeared to be on Ms Cavendish's desk. It would be fair to say he just wasn't interested in boring school things being the fifteen year old teenager he was.

"And your father is a politician? We have _many _students whose parents are of the same profession, maybe it will help you get involved and make some new friends."

The older brother grunted again, causing Ms Cavendish to glare, "Care to explain why you _interrupt_ me, Mr Vargas?"

Feliciano came to Lovino's aid at that point, rescuing him from yet another run in with another member of staff, in less than 10 minutes of being in the building. "I'm sorry, Ms Cavendish. _Fratello_ isn't really a people person, he never got the chance to mix with others as a child -"

Before he was able to finish that sentence, a punch on the arm was earned from the brunette next to him, "Ow! _Fratello_, that hurt! Now i'm going to have a bruise and -" he rambled, his face forming into that of a child.

Ms Cavendish chuckled almost silently at the brother's 'sibling fight' moment, "Come on now boys. Don't get into trouble before the year has even begun. Why don't I show you the area and your accommodation? I can assure you it is a very nice set of buildings."

"Okay!" Came an enthusiastic cheer from a certain hyper Italian teenager. Ms Cavendish allowed herself a small smile of amusement. She found it slightly refreshing having such a happy presence, as a contrast to the rather formal behaviour other students usually presented to her. Shifting her gaze briefly to the older brother, she couldn't help but notice the contrast in their personalities. She had a feeling she would have more problems with the grumpy teen, but for now, put it down to tiredness and hormones.

* * *

They walked through the main building (with mixed emotions) whilst Ms Cavendish chatted on about the precision of the uniform and how beautiful their grounds are when you take the time to appreciate them. Lovino and Feliciano listened intently to the descriptions their teacher was giving them, and when she pointed out how everyone got along and were overly friendly, Feliciano got really interested.

"I think we are just about to see some of our most prestigious students, this is normally where they spend their time before school."

As they turned the corner they discovered a rather heated shouting match between an enraged Englishman and a shrieking American. The two blonds were spitting various profanities at eachother across the hallway and a lot of threatening was going on.

"You watch it, you obnoxious, lazy American!" The shorter screamed out.

"Or what? You'll cast a magic spell through the powers of Shakespeare at me?! His writing was stupid and I didn't understand it! Why didn't you write it in American?!" The darker blond shouted back, looking as if he was restraining himself from bashing the other in the face.

"Why you- How dare you say such things about our beloved English literature! I could say the same thing about that series revolving around vampires! What was it again, Twibright?"

"Ha! No it was Twilight, actually!"

Before the shouting could continue, Ms Cavendish stepped in with a short barked, "Arthur Kirkland and Alfred F. Jones! Go and wait outside my office, I will _speak_ with you later!"

The two turned around sharply and scampered away, they could be compared to dogs running with their tails between their legs. The crowd surrounding them dissolved, leaving only Feliciano, Lovino and Ms Cavendish in the empty hallway.

"I'm _so_ sorry boys, this doesn't happen very often, I can assure you. Now, lets forget that happened and start fresh, shall we?"

They continued strolling through the halls, Ms Cavendish occasionally pointing out something of interest, but mainly staying silent. Eventually they reached the student village and they came to a stop in front of a small stone house in the center. It had a tiny garden no bigger than about six foot with patches of well maintained grass either side of a grey gravel path. A white picket fence surrounding the edge depicted the border of their garden with the next. The path led up to a front door made of oak, with a knocker in the shape of a globe. On the left hand side of the door was a plaque with the number 42 engraved into it. Surrounding them were other houses, exactly the same. It was almost as if they had been copy and pasted over and over again, to create exact replicas.

"This will be your house for the next four years. You may use it as you wish, within the rules provided in the packs you have been given. As an example, alcohol, house partys and definately drugs are prohibited from being on the school grounds. The opposite genders are not allowed to stay in the same house overnight, with the exception of relatives. You will find a full list posted on the fridge and the student bulletin boards around the site."

Both boys tuned out to Ms Cavendish droning on with a revised edition of the house rules and snapped back to present when she mentioned they were free to go inside, "You will find your key under the mat. If you have any problems, don't hesitate to walk up to the reception and ask Miss Anthea."

They thanked eachother for their time and the brothers headed inside their house. The first thing they saw was the violet fluffy carpeted hallway and the bare cream coloured walls, cleaned and waiting to be inhabited by the messy teenagers. A marble topped table sat to one side of the hall and a card sat atop it with some flowers in a vase.

Feliciano flicked the card open and waved at Lovino.

"_Fratello_, there's a message for us!

'Dear new students,

The senior members of staff at W.A.W. thank you for choosing our school to attend. We hope you get a great start to life here, so to ensure it's succesful, we have supplied you with the basic things you will need.

In the kitchen you will find enough food for a week, after you will be encouraged to either aquire food from the canteen or groceries can be purchaced in the Academy shop. We hold weekly trips into the nearby town, which if you want to participate, be sure to collect your pass from the reception. There is also a limited supply of washing powder, soaps and detergents in the laundry room -'"

"What the actual hell?! Do they think we're children or something? I can handle myself, thanks!" Lovino cried out, suddenly enraged at the fact the school thought they couldn't cope with independance.

"_Fratello_, calm down! It was simply meant to be a gesture of kindness! At least we can write home and say we're being looked after well enough." Feliciano fretted, trying to grasp a sense of reason with his brother, something one cannot simply acheive easily.

"Yeah, yeah. Carry on reading, idiot..."

"Okay!

'In your bedrooms there are school uniform sets hanging in the wardrobes for each person, consisting of our purple chequered trousers, light brown jumpers, white shirts and a different coloured tie depending on your year. Also supplied are our brown school shoes. You are required to wear this whilst attending classes and clubs, unless specifically specified.'

"I hope they got our sizes right, _Fratello_!"

Lovino, however, had once again wandered off into the living room to check out the area. It took quite a deal of searching the downstairs area before Feliciano found him.

"Geez, no TV? These _idiota_ sure are stingy!" To no surprise of Feliciano's, Lovino was grumbling about whatever nonsensical thing he could once again, "And a bookshelf, but no books? Those _marmocchio pomposas_ really don't go to any lengths considering our boredom, do they?"

The younger Italian grabbed his brother's shoulders and shook him gently, "But, Lovi, they have to accomodate over two thousand students! They can only provide so much for a household. Plus, we have enough books in our luggage to fill up more than just these shelves!"

"That's not the point..."

* * *

Soon after the incident in the living room, Lovino went upstairs to 'claim a bedroom and unpack', though Feliciano suspected he really only wanted to sulk about not being in his own room at home, nose in a book and in his own world.

Feliciano was just about ready to collect his own luggage from the foot of the stairs and head up to his own room when a knock could be heard at the front door. Inquisitive to see who it was, surely they hasn't actually met anyone else yet from what he could remember, he went to answer it.

No sooner than the door had been opened, he let out a slight squeak. Standing at the door was a very tall blond haired, blue eyed man.

"Um, hello, _Signore_? What can I do for you?" He whispered, feeling rather intimidated by this other student's presence. By the colour of his tie, he could assume he was in the same year as Feliciano, but surely they wern't around the same age!

That looming person simply let out a rather gruff, "Um, hello..." In a really thick German accent, extending a hand towards Felliciano.

* * *

**AN/ We hope you enjoyed the first chapter, there are many more to come! This fic is rated T for now, but it's most likely subject to change (Depending on whether Dead gets to take charge of writing any time soon :P).**

**There are two of us writing this, I am Blue and my sister is Dead, hence our account name! :D**

**Reviews appreciated and welcome!**

**Translations:**

**Italian**

_**Camorra: **_**A Mafia based in South Italy.  
**_**Signore: **_**Sir.  
**_**Grazie: **_**Thank you.  
**_**Fratello: **_**Brother.  
**"_**Hey rospo-donna! Fate attenzione a me accidenti a te!**_**"**_**: "**_**Hey, frog-woman! Pay attention to me, damn you!"  
**_**Stupido:**_** Stupid.  
**_**Marmocchio pomposa(s): **_**Pompus brat(s).  
**_**Idiota: **_**Idiot.**


	2. Eine schlechte erste Start

**Trials, Tribulations and Textbooks**

**Chapter 2**

**Eine schlechte erste Start/A bad first start.**

"Hello. I am Ludwig Beilschmidt, I have been assigned to show you and your brother around the school. Is he available?"

Feliciano stared at the large man, slightly intimidated by his formal demeanour. His blond hair was slicked back and his uniform was immaculate. His steel framed glasses made him look more like a member of staff, rather than a student. His expression was of a questioning look, which is when Feliciano realised he was still waiting for a reply.

"Oh, you mean _Fratello_? He's sulking in his room, but we can ask him in a moment, if you like." He replied, waving his hands around enthusiastically, "Would you like to come in?" He clutched at the German's hand, pulling him in regardless, already forgetting his mother's words.

Ludwig looked slightly taken aback at the Italian's friendly behaviour, but allowed himself to be pulled towards the living room. He stepped into the Vargas house, looking around as Feliciano shut the front door. He noticed the luggage still sitting at the bottom of the stairway, and looked sceptically at it. They had been here just over an hour and they hadn't unpacked yet. If it were him, within fifteen minutes of being there he would have had everything hung up and tidy with military precision. If it was anything to go by, at least they weren't as untidy and unruly as his own brother. Gilbert had been at this school for three years and Ludwig still wasn't sure if he'd unpacked yet.

"So, would you like a drink? We have tea and coffee! To be honest, I prefer coffee because it has more taste-" Feliciano babbled on about all sorts of nonsensical things to do with tea and coffee, whilst Ludwig politely declined.

"No, no thank you. I'm not that thirsty." The broad shouldered German answered with a polite smile and a small shake of his head.

"Oh, okay. But what about something to eat? I'm sure there are some nice things in the fridge I can get you. Talking about food, what is the school café like? Do they serve pasta there?" The brunette waved his hands about in circles and flapped them, getting excited with the prospect that they might serve pasta, his most favourite food ever.

Ludwig rubbed his forehead with his right hand and held his left out to quieten the boy, "Well, let's not get to far ahead of ourselves. I'll show you the canteen when we get to it. In the mean time, let's get your brother, shall we?"

Feliciano nodded enthusiastically and bounded up the carpet covered stairs to Lovino's room, Ludwig following on his tail. The German wondered how Feliciano could possibly have so much energy and never get worn out, when his brother was obviously the polar opposite.

Feliciano bashed on the wooden door separating his brother from the rest of the world with his fist, calling out, "Lovino, we have a visitor! It's a nice German person coming to show us around! His name is Mr Ludwig, and he's so friendly, come and meet him!"

Silence ensued from the other side of the door for a matter of seconds, before a muffled, "Go away. I don't need looking after by some foreign person I don't even know. Specifically not a German foreign person."

Ludwig's expression changed, slightly surprised and annoyed at the same time, his brow furrowing in the middle, "Hey! What's wrong with German people?!"

Before his brother could answer, Feliciano stepped in once again, "I'm so sorry Mr Beilschmidt! Lovino isn't in a good mood for some reason. He always gets like this."

"Shut up, _Idiota!_" Came from the other side of the door.

Ludwig then stepped up to the door and called through it, "Listen here, Italian! I've made a list of everything I want to show you and I've even checked it twice!" He announced proudly at his organisational skills.

"Who are you, fucking Santa Claus?!" Lovino shouted sarcastically through the wood.

Feliciano bashed on the door again, starting to plead with his brother, like always when he went into one of his moods. It was always the same, he would go into a grump, but Feliciano being the nice younger brother, always tried to get him to cheer up, "Oh, come on, _Fratello_! It'll be good to get to know the area, surely it won't hurt, will it? At least come out so I can see your face!"

"No. No means no, _Idiota!_"

Feliciano started to look crestfallen, then turned to the German, "I think we should leave _Fratello _here. He doesn't really want to cooperate much when he's in one of these moods, which is often."

Ludwig nodded and after Feliciano said goodbye to the moody teenager through the door, they left withought another word to him.

* * *

The silver haired German walked down the corridoor, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and sighing in annoyance. He had just come from the worlds most boring class, advanced mathmatics, and he found it way too easy. Why couldn't that old fossil set him something challenging once in a while? It was bad enough having to correct the teacher's mistakes, not that the old man would ever admit to it.

He needed something to take his mind off the class, and he had spotted just that. Pushing his reading glasses up the bridge of his nose, he sauntered over to Roderich and Elizaveta, who were currently conversing near the library entrance. Placing his usual cocky grin on his face, he squeezed himself into the small gap between the pair, placing his hand on the wall and his back to the Austrian.

"Hey, babe." He said. leaning towards the Hungarian woman slightly.

"Excuse me, have you no manners-" Roderich started to protest, the annoyance showing through his usual calm demeanour.

Gilbert made a point of ignoring the man, "We should hang out some time, like we used to." He went to brush her hair behind her ear as he spoke but was cut short by the fiery brunette.

"What the hell, Gil?" She cried, swinging her fist back instinctively, landing a swift punch to his still grinning face. She grimaced. She didn't have the patience to deal with Gilbert, particularly when he was acting a fool.

Gilbert laughed, rubbing his face where her fist had connected with it and gave her a quick peck on the cheek, amused at the slight blush that formed there, before running down the corridoor.

She tried to go after him, full intentions of beating him to a pulp, but Roderich held her back, saying, "Don't, Elizaveta. He's not worth the hassle."

She resigned herself to glaring at the idiot as he made his escape, knowing full well that this wasn't the first, nor would it be the last time that he pulled stupid stunts like this. Sometimes she couldn't help but wonder if it was all simply done to gain her attention.

* * *

Ms Cavendish was glad at times like these that she had her stress ball. At first she had to deal with the Spaniard, who couldn't hold his toungue in class, however was oblivious to the fact that his obnoxious comments and constant back chat had offended his English teacher, amongst other staff. Then there was the matter of the Frenchman, who had single handedly managed to make five first year students cry, simply by trying to flirt with them.

"But, _mon cher_, maybe they are too young to understand my charms." He said, attempting to defend himself.

The headteacher gave him a dissapproving look, "Mr Bonnefoy, I hardly consider informing those girls of the size of... a certain... _appendage_, as charm." Her tone made it plain that she was not impressed.

He simply winked at her, "You may call me Francis,_ la belle_."

Antonio couldn't stifle his giggle as his friend got into trouble once again, but then the tables were turned as Ms Cavendish turned the attention to him.

"I suggest you keep all opinions to yourself at this present moment, Mr Carriedo. Now, I don't want to see either of you in my office for the rest of this week. Can you manage that?"

"But your so beautiful when your ang-"

"Get. Out. Mr Bonnefoy, and take your friend with you. I have another meeting. I don't have time to deal with your antics and I'm surprised your other friend isn't with you."

Both boys turned to leave the room, grinning like idiots, at which point Ms Cavendish called for the next squabbling students who hadn't stopped arguing since she had sent them to her office in the first place.

"It's always your fault, your eyebrows always get me in trouble." Alfred whined, pointing his finger at the large eyebrows adorning the Englishman's face. He pouted like a child at Arthur, clearly not understanding he was making the situation worse,

"How did my eyebrows get you in trouble, you bloody git?! It's your obnoxious ego-" Arthur scoffed angrily, before being cut off by that annoying laugh that grated on the Brit's nerves.

"Onhonhon, what do we have here, a lovers quarrel?" Francis chuckled at the short blond, nothing amused him more than winding up the bad tempered boy.

At which point, Gilbert turned up in search of his friends, already expecting them to be around here. It was a regular occurance, he was surprised they didn't have their own name plates on the seats outside the Headteacher's office.

"Why you insufferable frog-"

With previous dealings between Francis and the young Brit, Ms Cavendish knew Arthur was going to explode. Quickly pulling Arthur, and also Alfred by his brown bomber jacket, into the office she attempted to diffuse the situation before it got out of hand. Closing the door, all that could be heard was Arthur's muffled yelling.

In the reception area they all looked at each other with equally amused expressions, then Antonio noticed the glasses Gilbert had forgotten to take off.

"Hey, what's with the glasses, Gilly? Who are you trying to impress?" He laughed, knowing it was a touchy subject for the German.

Gilbert pulled the frames off his face quickly and pocketed them in his red zip up hoodie, "Mind your own, or I'll let Gilbird loose on your garden patch." He glared at his friend, refraining from laughing at his horrified expression.

"Hey! Low blow, Gilly! _Low. _blow!" Antonio cried, fearing for his beloved garden , "And what's with the red mark on your face anyway, you been winding up our favourite highly strung Austrian again?"

"Nah, like he could cause the awesome me pain! He hits like a girl!"

Francis chuckled at the two, knowing it was all in jest, and also knowing that Gilbert couldn't stop himself when it came to winding up Roderich, then smiled, "I'm hungry. Perhaps we could go and get some food, I need to keep my energy up for all these beautiful women. It's not like you two have any sort of luck..."

"Coming from you! I can have my pick of _anyone_." Antonio argued.

Gilbert grinned, feeling an idea coming on, "Hey. How about, when we get to the canteen, I'll pick someone out and you have to prove you're as awesome as me and Francy-pants here." He said, patting Francis on the shoulder.

The three grinned madly at one another. Any idea they thought up was usually either a fun or rather dangerous idea. In any case, they always marvelled at their own genious when plotting mischief. Through all the antics the friends had pulled over the years, they had earned themselves a reputation and a rather fitting title amongst their peers, the 'Bad Touch Trio' - A title they were, admittedly, all proud of.

Antonio considered this for a brief moment, but then agreed, unable to resist the challenge. "You're on!"

Francis whispered to Gilbert as they walked to the canteen, "5 pounds says he either chickens out or fails."

* * *

"And this is the last place I have to show you." Ludwig proclaimed, gesturing to the large student cafeteria. "You must surely be hungry after your busy day."

Feliciano peeked through the doorway at the rows of tables, students gathered around various ones chatting and eating, scanning the space before him, his eyes came to a stop on a sign that displayed the dish of the day. It was a pasta based dish, he read, and his eyes lit up as he excitedly bounded over to the sign, completely disregarding the other dishes on dispay around him.

"Look, Ludwig! They do serve it! And on my first day too, that's amazing!"

Ludwig sighed and walked over to him. In the short time he was with him, Ludwig had noticed how the young Italian became excitable over the simplist and smallest of things. Only earlier, he had become so facinated with the landscape paintings in the art department. It had completely put them behind schedule. He couldn't quite decide if it was an annoying trait or an admiring one.

As he was deep in thought, listening to Feliciano ramble on happily, he felt a sharp slap on his back and turned to see the red eyes of his older brother, accompanied by his band of idiots.

"How's my favourite _Bruder_? Still on your babysitting assignment?" He chuckled, much to Ludwig's annoyance.

As Ludwig was turned away, Antonio took his que and slid towards Feliciano. Using his best smile, he spoke in a sultry manner, "_Mi amor_ you are truly a thing of _belleza_!" He said, gazing into the shorter boy's eyes.

Feliciano stuttered and couldn't help but blush at the spaniard's words, just as a booming voice rang out from behind them.

"Hey, asshole!"

Antonio turned just as a tomato connected with his face.

"Get away from my brother!"

* * *

**A/N:**** Hope you enjoyed the second installment! Generally speaking, some of the things in this chapter were acted out by us and some ideas came by complete accident (such as Santa Claus, Dead let her inner Romano out on me *sweatdrop*).**

**Reviews and faves are always welcome!**

**Blue and Dead.**

**Translations**

**Italian:  
**_**Fratello: **_**Brother  
**_**Idiota:**_** Idiot**

**French:  
**_**Mon cher: **_**My dear  
**_**La Belle: **_**Beautiful**

**German:  
**_**Bruder: **_**Brother**

**Spanish:  
**_**Mi amor: **_**My love  
**_**Belleza: **_**Beauty**


	3. 校庭の戦い

**Trials, Tribulations and Textbooks**

**Chapter 3**

校庭の戦い**/Battle of the school yard.**

Arthur looked up just in time to see the tomato connect with Antonio's face, cutting the conversation between himself and the generally reserved Japanese man short.

They had been having a conversation about the upcoming 'Nordic five' gig, which they both considered to be an excellent band, their talents equal to that of an established status, even though they were still in school themselves. For the most part this was an interest they both shared, music, particularly rock. Arthur swayed for towards the punk genre, contradicting his smartly dressed appearance, and Kiku had a passion for J-rock and the Visual Kei bands that were so popular back in his home of Japan. Not many people really knew of their love of rock-based music , unless however it was a rare opportunity to not be in the school dress code.

"Bloody hell, what have those idiots done now?" Arthur asked angrily shifting his gaze back to the table and placing his beloved bone china cup back on it's saucer. He took them everywhere, with the firm belief that tea could not be enjoyed in anything but a decent tea-set.

Kiku looked over at the group formed at the far side of the cafeteria. They were standing near a salad bar, which offered a variety of different fresh fruit and vegetables and no doubt where they angry young student acquired his 'weapon'. "I do not know Arthur-San, but it seems that they have picked a fight with the wrong person this time." He replied softly, unable to hide the hint of amusement in his voice.

He was accustomed to seeing bizarre fights such as this, only last night Heracules, his Greek house mate, had poured yoghurt all over the head of Sadiq, simply for insulting his cat plushy collection. Kiku was amazed that the school still thought it was a good idea to house them together every year.

A look of confusion descended over Arthur, as he tried to put a name to the unfamiliar faces, noting the similarities between the currently sobbing younger Italian and the venting, foul mouthed Italian. Judging by their clothes, he assumed they must be new students to this school.

He sighed, returning to his tea and trying to ignore the commotion going on, deciding it must have been all the frogs fault, despite him not actually being involved. He was simply just in the room.

Kiku turned his dark eyes towards the Englishman, "We should be taking our leave now, Arthur-San. The student council will be waiting for us." He informed, standing from his chair and gathering his belongings. He considered informing Ludwig of the time, but decided against it because knowing his good friend well, he would be there in good time regardless.

Arthur, however, did not even have this cross his mind. He and the German did not get along on good terms and because of that, he would take great amusement in seeing him be late for once. He nodded in agreement to Kiku, "Yes quite, I've had enough of this _entertainment_..."

* * *

"What the hell is your problem? I was simply trying to have a conversation with this sweet little treasure," Antonio yelled, wiping the remains of the tomato from his face.

Lovino scoffed, "I don't care what you say,_ Idiota! _It did not look like that from over here!" Refusing to back down, he wasn't intimidated in the slightest by the foot taller Spaniard. He stepped closer and pointed his finger right in Antonio's face, "Stay away from my brother!"

This was the final straw for Antonio, comments didn't phase the fun loving boy, but no one got in his face, not even his close friends did that, _no one _stood up to him like that. He leaned forward, quickly grabbing a fist full of Lovino's shirt, throwing him against the wall, "Just who do you think you are?" He hissed, their faces just inches apart.

Lovino scowled back, before growling out a reply, "I'm Lovino_ fucking _Vargas."

They stared at each other coldly, oblivious to Ludwig's commands to stop and Antonio's friends' constant laughing. Ludwig had been held back by his brother, who seemed insistent on letting this nonsense continue.

Feliciano, who was at that point still crying, wiped the tears from his eyes and pleaded with his brother, "Please, _Fratello, _stop fighting. I don't think he meant to do anything wrong, he was just trying to be nice!"

All he got was a grunt in response, and Feliciano continued, tugging his brother's arm, "Come on, brother, let's stop it now. Let's go, it's scaring me!" He whimpered, his eyes threatening to well up again.

Lovino briefly looked at his brother before returning his gaze to the green eyed boy, who still had hold of his shirt. He had had enough of this, and with one swift movement he struck his knee between the unsuspecting boy's legs. Antonio let out a cry of pain and slumped to the floor, releasing Lovino from his grip.

The older Italian boy stepped over Antonio, who was currently curled into a ball on the floor, with nothing but the Frenchman trying to sooth him whilst still laughing. Grabbing Feliciano's arm, he dragged him out of the cafeteria, not saying another word to anyone else.

* * *

Ludwig was in disbelief. This had never happened on one of his assignments before, it just had to happen now and have his brother and his stupid band of idiots involved. He looked over to where Francis was comforting Antonio on the floor, and then at his brother who was cackling madly at the whole situation.

He took a deep sigh of exasperation and pinched the bridge of his nose, a habit he always had whenever he was annoyed or stressed. It was like keeping an eye on a child constantly, except Gilbert was older than him by almost two years.

Ludwig really didn't understand why Gilbert insisted on hanging around those two morons, despite the fact he regularly got himself in trouble and couldn't help himself when mischief was around he was in actual fact very bright. His grades were the top for his year, if not surpassing his seniors and he had the inability to take things seriously and saw life as one big game, much to their parent's disapproval. Perhaps this is why Ludwig had to act and do what his parents expected of him, he was always formal, well behaved and and organised. He was a key member of the student council and despite his heavy workload within the school, always tried to help his father in matters concerning the successful family run business.

With all of the antics Gilbert had pulled over the years, shaming his parents to no end, Ludwig felt a certain responsibility to uphold the family name and make his parents proud.

"Gilbert, we must talk about this later," He muttered in a matter of fact tone, as he left the room almost knocking over Alfred in the process.

The blond haired American called after him, "Hey, dude! The student council is looking for you, they're waiting to start the meeting!"

Ludwig felt that familiar ache rising in his temple, yet another thing going wrong for him today. He prided himself on being punctual, and that was another thing to add on the growing list of failures happening that day.

Alfred bounded off to the serving area, knocking his twin brother out of the way, emitting a small squeak from the shy Canadian boy. He smiled at Mary, one of the school's dinner ladies, oblivious to Matthew's presence. He had an uncanny talent for making friends with everyone, particularly people who served food as Arthur had sarcastically commented on a couple of occasions, and was on first name basis with all the dinner ladies.

"You're looking lovely today, Mary. Have you done something with your hair?" Alfred winked, in his friendly manner.

Mary allowed a smile to grace her features, un-phased by the American's charm, but still flattered none the least, "Hiya, sweetheart, What will it be today?" She asked cheerily, knowing full well what his order would be, because he had the same every day.

"B-but I was next..." A small voice, belonging to Matthew stuttered quietly, but none the less no one heard him over the louder brother.

"Weeell, I'd like a Big Mac, extra cheese and hold the pickles, large fries and a large coke please!" He said excitedly, reciting his order as one would in a McDonalds restaurant.

Mary smiled and prepared his order, slipping him extra fries. Though the school food wasn't quite up to McDonalds standards, in Alfred's eyes, it was a good substitute regardless. Why did the school have to try and make everything so damn healthy anyway?!

As he took his tray, he noticed Mary had given him an extra portion of food and beamed happily at her, "Aw, Mary! You're the best!"

* * *

The Russian man was not really a matter anyone the on student council wished to discuss. It had come to their attention that instead of looking after the first years he'd been assigned, as part of his assignment set by the school councillor, he had left them terrified and one Latvian boy had locked himself in his room for three days. The hulking Russian had decided that being so short, he would help him grow by picking him up sideways and attempting to stretch the poor boy.

Arthur leaned his head against his arm on the table, unable to get the visions of the Russian out of his head, and groaned. It was already evening, they had spent all afternoon in this meeting, and not only was he tired but all he could think of was Ivan's chant of, "Stretchy stretchy!" which was creepy in itself.

"That boy is not fit to be looking after anyone else, he can barely look after himself! I'm quite surprised that he hasn't been suspended with his behaviour."

One girl at the other end of the table spoke up at that point, "Yes, but you forget Arthur. His parents donate a large amount of funding to the school each year. The school are not simply going to get rid of the son of such generous donators."

Ludwig sighed. He was trying his hardest to pay attention, but in all honesty, his mind kept wandering off to that of the Italian boy. He couldn't place his finger on why it bothered him but he finally reasoned with himself that it must be because he had a duty to perform to look after the new student and his brother - not that Lovino needed any help. Maybe he should go check on him later, to make sure he was OK. He did say he was frightened from the fighting after all, and it _was_ he duty to make sure the students he was in charge of were alright.

"Ludwig, what are your thoughts? Are you in agreement to the course of action we have decided on?" a voice spoke, stirring him from his thoughts. The German looked to to face Arthur, who was currently leaning over him, hand placed on the table, and his brows furrowed in annoyance. Quickly gaining his composure, Ludwig nodded.

"Yes, it is perfectly acceptable" He replied without even knowing what had been decided. Generally speaking, any decision making in the group was usually done by himself. However, he had resigned that since the people in the meeting had equal ideas to his own on matters, he didn't need to worry himself. That was, until the head of the student council spoke.

"It is settled then, Ludwig will speak with Ivan tomorrow, and we will see if he can resolve this matter accordingly."

Lugwig attempted to hide his surprise, not pleased that due to his own distractions, he had agreed to such a dangerous task. As unphased as Ludwig usually was, the Russian even scared him slightly. He couldn't help but wonder who had suggested him to participate in the first place. Looking across the table, he noticed the grin upon the sarcastic Brit's face. He should have known.

As the meeting came to a close and everyone filed out of the door, Ludwig approached his good friend Kiku to catch up. He'd been so busy this week, he'd hardly had time to fit the Japanese man into his schedule. They had both been good friends since they started the academy, bonding over their love for literature and for Football. As much as he hated to admit it, him, that annoying Spaniard and Kiku were the best players on the school team, bringing in many trophies from the competitions the team had won.

"Hello, Kiku. How did your woodwork class go?" He asked the black haired boy, who was currently starting to tidy the room, helping by picking up the books left discarded on the table by the other students.

"Ah, Ludwig-kun! I've been meaning to thank you for your advice. I finally finished my _Bokken_ for my project, thanks to you," Kiku bowed to his friend in appreciation. He'd been struggling with the final design. His project was based on different aspects of Japanese culture, but the main focus was on different weapons, mainly centred around swords. He had originally wanted make a replica of one of the temples from home, during the sakura blossom season, however his teacher had claimed his idea was too 'womanly' and requested him to pick a more 'manly' topic. Personally, Kiku did not see the issue of appreciating the beauty of the sakura tree, regardless of their gender, but refrained from arguing his point and went along with his teachers request regardless.

"Maybe I could show you when we're done here?" Kiku offered hopefully, proud of his craftsmanship.

Ludwig considered this for a moment, but politely declined, "I'm sorry, Kiku, but I have a stack of homework waiting for my attention, and I would like to make a start on it. Perhaps tomorrow if I survive my encounter with Ivan?"

Kiku offered him a sympathetic smile. They gathered their bags and headed towards out of the door of the meeting room, "Yes Arthur-San was very cruel in suggesting you when your mind was elsewhere. I had read the atmosphere, but refrained from speaking, when you were busy with your thoughts." He mused, as they walked through the corridor.

Ludwig frowned slightly, was he that obvious? He was usually good at keeping his body language to a minimum when deep in thought, "Regardless, it is my job to undertake now, and I will carry it out tomorrow."

Dusk was already starting to set, and the little lamps that ran by the side of the path illuminated the way. The gardens were quiet at this time of night, as Ludwig and Kiku made their way towards the student accommodation, it was a peaceful walk. The air was still warm and there was a soft breeze blowing through the brown leaved trees. Autumn was just rolling in, making everything ten times more beautiful. Upon the red sky in the distance, little clouds were dotted here and there, painted grey by the slowly failing light.

Everything was serene, except for the laughter coming from the main building's roof that had drawn the two boy's attention to it.

"Onhonhonhon, Den, pass me that water balloon," They heard from a distance, "I've just spotted sweet Sophia. I'm so glad they wear those white..."

The two stared at the roof, able to make out four silhouettes against the sky, no doubt in their minds that it was the Bad Touch Trio joined by their Danish friend and Nordic Five member, Nikkel Densen, otherwise known as Den. They never learn their lesson, every week when the Girl's Netball practice was taking place they would take their place to water bomb them.

Ludwig was just about to go and stop the fools, but Kiku stopped him, "Ludwig-kun, don't forget Lili Zwingli is also on the team, I'm sure Vash-san will deal with them once he realises what they've done."

The German let out a small grin, knowing full well that they would get what was coming to them, despite the Swiss' small stature he was a formidable force, especially when it concerned his younger sister, "I agree Kiku, we'll let the trigger happy Swiss deal with them."

They left the gardens behind them and entered the student village. Turning to Ludwig, Kiku bowed, "Goodnight Ludwig-kun."

Ludwig silently nodded his head as they parted to go their separate ways to their houses. He really did have a stack of homework waiting for him, not that was due in any time soon, but first he had to clean up the mess that was left behind from earlier.

He stopped off at his house to put his bag away and realised he had something that could cheer the Italian up. He had originally intended to have it later, and before he realised what he was doing, it was in his hands and Ludwig had headed over to the Vargas house.

* * *

**A/N: As always, we hope you enjoyed this instalment.  
Reviews and faves are always welcome! :)**

**Blue and Dead.**

**Translations**

**Italian  
**_**Fratello**_**: Brother  
**_**Idiota**_**: Idiot**


	4. страшный заседания

**Trials, Tribulations and Textbooks.**

**Chapter 4**

**страшный заседания/A terrible meeting**

With each step Ludwig took towards the home that the Vargas brother shared, he could feel his nerves creeping up on him. Why was he so nervous? It was just a simple gesture really, a friendly one. Making sure new students were coping was part of his mentoring duties, he reminded himself. He'd read about this in many books, the best way to approach someone new was by making a friendly gesture, reach out an olive branch. Then again, Ludwig had never had many friends, not close ones at least. He preferred to keep to his studies, with his nose in a book, oblivious to the world. So why couldn't he explain why his heart wouldn't stop this fluttering feeling.

'Friendship. It's because I'm attempting to make a new friendship.' He reasoned with himself.

Looking up he realised he was already outside the house. He could see that the curtains had been drawn and the only light that appeared to be on, was in the direction of the living room. The faint sound of music could be heard. The soft melodies of a guitar being played, and the even softer sounds of someone singing reached his ears. Upon opening the gate to the front of their small garden, he slowly made his way to the front door. Captivated by the music, he forgot how nervous he felt inside. He almost felt guilty as he reached for the doorbell, guilty for interrupting the beautiful music coming from inside. After a brief pause, Ludwig knelt on the small concrete step laying before the front door and placed his gift. With a quiet sigh, he stood and left, closing the small garden gate behind him.

* * *

Feliciano turned towards the window mid-song, he could have sworn he had heard something outside. Glancing over at his brother, he noticed his eyes were shut in pure concentration as he strummed the mahogany accoustic guitar.

He smiled, it was one of the rare times he saw his brother like this. Content, not angry, almost as if he was lost in the music he was playing, as if all his troubles faded with the notes. It was something they had always done, it was tradition.

Back home in Italy they used to sit in the vast, golden wheat fields near their country house for hours, playing music and singing. It had begun when they were about nine or ten, there had been a tremendous argument. Their father had been so angry, Feliciano, who hadn't actually been in the room, could hear his father's booming voice from the room below. Despite this, he still didn't know what had been said to this day, but none the less he went after his older brother even when his father had commanded him to leave him be.

He had found him sitting beneath an old oak tree, on the swing their grandfather had tied to a branch when they were much younger. He was in his own little world, strumming such a sad, mellow song on that guitar. Feliciano walked towards him, the tops of the wheat brushing against his legs, and he simply sat on the floor beside him, with his knees drawn to his chest.

It was all quiet, save for the beautiful music and the faint rustling of the wind in the trees, until Feliciano began to sing. It had taken a while to pluck up the courage, knowing full well his brother's volatile temperment, but when Lovino had no reaction but to carry on playing he realised it was a silent understanding that no actual conversation was needed. They could express their feelings through the raw emotions of the music.

That was the first time Feliciano had seen his brother cry.

Suddenly Lovino stopped playing, stirring Feliciano from his fond memories. It was that noise again, confirming what the younger had heard earlier. They both looked at eachother before going to check the window.

Upon peeling back the curtains slightly, they could see nothing but the dimly lit street and other student houses. Confused, Feliciano looked around. It definately didn't come from inside the house, since the noise originated from the front garden, "_Fratello,_ I think we should check ouside..." He started to say, but Lovino was already by the front door.

"Who the _hell_ leaves pasta on a doorstep?!"

* * *

The following day, Ludwig was somewhere he really didn't want to be, when he should be in the library. Infact, he was feeling quite antsy, and not because he was being deprived of precious study time or having to bail his brother out of yet more trouble - he'd had enough trouble last night when Gilbert had come whining to his front door about his cut lip, though insisting that Francis had come off the worst. Ludwig simply sighed and said, "That's what happens when you mess with Vash's sister."

Today, he would be meeting with the intimidating Russian, known as Ivan Braginski, and it was fair to say he was actually quite nervous.

He walked slowly up to the front door, prolonging the moments before he would have to face the terrifying thing that surely wasn't human. Reluctantly, he knocked on the front door, almost able to see the aura of imminent doom that always seemed to follow Ivan like a storm-cloud already, before it was washed away when the door was opened by the Russian's elder sister.

Sophia gave him a welcoming smile, "Hello! It's such a beautiful day today, what brings you to our house?"

Ludwig was slightly taken aback, half expecting to find the hulking man behind the door, but instead being answered by his much more pleasant sister. "H-hello Miss, I have actually come to speak with your brother, if I may?"

She gave him a half horrified and half expecting face, as if she was anticipating the antics he'd gotten up to, "Oh, my. What has he done now?!" She clasped her hands to her chest, "Surely it can't be too bad, he's been getting on so much better with the new councillor!"

Ludwig started to look slightly uncomfortable with discussing this with her. Sophia, in contrast to her brother, was a kind hearted girl, always seeing the best in people. She used most of her spare time to help the school nurse and even ran weekly sessions for troubled and new students in the school library. Ludwig had seen her there on occasions, surrounded by people seeking help, and even heard in passing that she'd been nicknamed "Mum" by some of the younger students, due to her caring and loving nature.

He'd rather just get it out of the way with by simply talking to Ivan about it.

"Please, do come in," She offered, before leading him to the kitchen, where they found Ivan, feet up on the table, with a glass in one hand - that Ludwig suspected was not water - and a ciggarette in the other. Ludwig frowned slightly, always one for the rules, he wondered if he should mention rule #16 about smoking inside the student accomodation, before deciding quickly against it.

"There's someone to see you," She stated, unphased by her brother's stare. She beamed back at Ludwig, "Would you like a drink or anything?"

Ivan spoke before Ludwig even had a chance to, seemingly answering for him, "He is fine, _da?_ Take a seat." He said, gesturing to one of the empty chairs around the table.

Sophia excused herself with great politeness as she headed towards the exit, "I'll leave you to it, I have to go and meet with Natalia now," She pecked her brother on the cheek in passing and nodded towards Ludwig, "It was nice to see you."

"Thank you, Miss Sophia," He nodded in return, taking the seat opposite Ivan, attempting to avoid eye contact with the hulking Russian.

Ivan smiled a seemingly innocent smile across the table, before taking a sip of the clear liquid in his glass. He stared, eyeballs unmoving, at the other man across from him.

Feeling slightly unnerved, Ludwig pressed on regardless, "I have come to see you today on student council matters. We have recieved a few complaints about your behaviour with other students," He began to say, getting no responce other than _that _smile, "If you truly wish to be part of the Peer Mentoring scheme then you must adhere to the guidelines and try _not _to intimidate your assigned students. It is truly unnacceptible behavior on your part."

"But I _was _helping..." Ivan said, in such a childlike voice it was almost creepy, "How was I supposed to know a boy of his age would cry like a baby?"

"Making someone cry, regardless of age, is unnacceptable, Mr Braginski,"

Ivan's face looked so baffled at that moment, before the cute expression was replaced with a dark look, "Back home in Mother Russia he would be beaten for crying like a woman. He needs to be taught to act like a man, da? Maybe I should have used my forcet pipe, but I was feeling kind."

"But things are different in each country, Ivan, I certainly hope that was a joke."

"No."

Ludwig was astounded, he couldn't help but muse how different he and his sister were. Sophia, being so kind hearted and angelic... Then, there was Ivan...

"How can they even be related?" he muttered, not realising he had spoken aloud until Ivan's Chinese housemate walked by.

"They arn't. Ivan was raised by a pack of wolves." He said cheerily, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and waltzing back out again, flashing Ivan that same cheesy grin. Yao, much like Sophia, was one of the very few who had never been intimidated by the Russian. He was the only student housed with him who hadn't actually requested a transfer to another accomodation.

Ivan gave him an incredulous stare, making Ludwig wonder how Yao had survived so long under the same roof unscathed.

The Russian stubbed out his ciggarette in the ashtray upon the table, blowing out the last of the smoke, "I'll make an effort so you don't have to come bothering me again, _da?_ Maybe we could become friends."

Ludwig's face became that of instant, visible horror, even though he knew Ivan was only saying it to creep him out. Though, he still wouldn't even attempt to make contact with him more than neccisary. He was just one of those _types _you tried to avoid in a dark ally during a thunderstorm.

"Very well then," He sighed, taking his leave, "I'll show myself out."

Exiting the house, he made his way through the gardens and to the library. _Now _he could get his well earned study time.

* * *

**A/N:** **We hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please feel free to leave comments and reviews!**

**Blue and Dead.**

**Translations:  
Italian  
****_Fratello: _Brother**

**Russian  
_Da: _Yes**


	5. The almost kiss

**Trials, Tribulations and Textbooks**

**Chapter 5**

**The almost kiss.**

Arthur sat at the kitchen table, taking the time to enjoy the quiet of the morning. He took a sip of tea before turning a page of the newspaper in front of him eyes scanning across the printed words contentedly. He always rose early, a routine he had kept for as long as he could remember, and enjoy the rare moments alone, drinking tea peacefully. He supposed it was a trait he had acquired from his own father. As far back as Arthur could remember he would see his father sat at that grand dining table in the lavish family home, reading the daily papers in silence. Arthur took a deep sigh, so much had changed since then. Closing the paper, he rose picking up his backpack as he stood. Looking at the clock on the kitchen wall he noted it was almost quarter to eight and his first class, English Lit started soon. Patting down his freshly pressed blazer he made his way towards the front door, before a loud crash drew his attention up the stairs.

"Ohmygod! I'm gonna be so late!"

"You should have thought of that before you stayed up half the night playing that blasted video game," Arthur called dryly, somewhat amused at his American housemate's failure to drag himself out of bed on time. Instead of showing him any sympathy, of which he had none, he simply shut the door behind him and made his way to school.

Alfred glared at the closed-door, just as if he were trying to burn holes in to it, as he made his way down the stairs. Upon glancing at the kitchen clock and almost screaming because he knew he was going to have to face the wrath of Ms Cavendish once again, he tried to shove a piece of toast into his mouth, do up his tie and slip on his shoes all at the same time.

He knew he was going to be late, but it was worth trying to reduce the time he would have to pay back to his English teacher at lunch, and planned to do what he did most days, run like his life depended on it.

"Why didn't you wake me up, damn you..." He muttered, grabbing his school bag and pretty much throwing himself out of the door, all in the space of about ten minutes.

Alfred bounded out of the garden, not even bothering to close the gate behind him, and ran down the street, heading towards the main building. All his focus was on trying to make it to his class, which annoyingly enough, he shared with the Englishman. If he was actually a gentleman, which Arthur always claimed he was, the damn Brit would have woke him up! His feet pounded on the concrete as he passed through the school gardens, barely paying attention to where he was running, he almost ran straight into a fellow student, who apparently, was in the same situation as Alfred.

"Hey watch it!" Came the gruff yell, yet nether Alfred or the other student lessened their pace. He turned his blue eyes towards the fellow student, a cheeky remark ready on the tip of his tongue, before his eyes came to a rest on the guitar case that the other boy was carrying. His eyes took in the numerous band patches and stickers adorning the black case, the most prominent being the boys own band name, which covered a large amount of the canvas material.

"Oh, hey Den! Hows the new songs coming?" Alfred asked between breaths as he shoved the doors to the school open in haste, almost knocking a group of girls over in the process. Alfred yelled his apologies as he and Den bolted past.

"I won't be even alive to sing them if I'm late for Mrs Curtis again! You know what she's like..." Den yelled, his voice trailing off " And Nor, geeze, he will have my head if I'm in detention again!"

Alfred laughed yet couldn't help but feeling a little sympathy for the usually excitable third year. He had Mrs Curtis for Physical Education that afternoon, and she was renowned for being a hard taskmaster. She was in charge of the majority of the schools sports teams, and her reputation for winning trophies was well known, as was her reputation of using sometimes unconventional teaching methods, regardless of whether the students liked it or not, she got results. Alfred waved goodbye to the tall blonde, as he turned to run up the stairs to the second floor. Glancing at his watch he gritted his teeth, he had two minutes to make it to his class and two minutes to avoid yet another trip to Ms Cavendish's office.

He power walked down the corridor, hasty to reach the classroom before the bell went, and barged through the door. If it wasn't mortifying enough, the whole class - including the damned Englishman - looked up and stared at him, adding to the humiliation. In an effort to hide his embarrassment, he placed his wide grin upon his face, and gave a nearby girl a wink. She giggled, turning to her friends and whispered quietly.

"Well, hello there Mr Jones. You're just in time, the bell is about to go in, oh, thirty seconds." His teacher, Miss Anne, smiled politely.

He stared at his normal seat, another student in his class was sitting there. Noticing he was still standing, Miss Anne nodded at another seat. Alfred's expression turned to that of horror when he realised who it was by.

"Alfred, today you will be sitting by Arthur Kirkland. Don't wind each other up, I hear you have a history of doing that."

"But Miss Anne-" Alfred tried to protest, he really didn't want to beg, but if it meant not having to sit next to _him_, he'd give it a good go. Even though they were housemates, they hadn't exactly been interacting as much as normal for the past week. For the best part, they were usually in an argument, or winding each other up, but it was just how their friendship worked. Anyone watching the two would think they truly hated one another.

"Alfred. Stop talking and sit down." The teacher quickly replied cutting his whining off quickly.

Alfred realised he wasn't going to win this battle and slumped down next to the boy moodily, glaring at the had been avoiding each other, neither really wanting to bring up what had happened between them, well, what had almost happened between them at took a deep sigh and pouted, adverting his gaze to the posters on the classroom wall. Arthur turned his lip with equal contempt. Just when he thought his day was going so well, he had to contend with the obnoxious American.

* * *

It was fair to say that English lesson wasn't very pleasant. Alfred just couldn't seem to help himself, first he insulted Shakespeare, secondly argued incessantly with Arthur on the spelling of certain words, claiming they spelt American words wrong, and lastly he kept talking with Arthur when he was trying to pay attention – earning them both a telling off.

Arthur walked silently to his next class, complaining in his mind over the fact that Alfred had far too much energy for that early in the morning. He was glad he didn't have his next class with him, it meant he could have a break until he had to sit through those stupid American films. The only reason he had agreed to have movie nights was to avoid Alfred banging on his door at 1am in the morning, insisting he watched something with him, despite their avoiding of each other recently.

Why it always had to be something scary was beyond Arthur, those types of films scared Alfred to death, and all he did through them was hide behind that stupid cushion, putting creases in it. At least it wasn't one of those soppy American romantic dramas, Arthur still remembered what had happened and caused the slight rift between them...

* * *

Arthur sat on the sofa amused, watching as Alfred struggled to put the DVD in the player. When he had succeeded, he sat down on the sofa, next to the Brit, his eyes fixated on the screen as the opening credits rolled.

Where Arthur had his traditions such as his early morning cups of tea and his newspaper, Alfred had his own... _unique... _tradition. Alfred was a firm believer in setting the mood when watching any film, regardless of the genre. According to the loud American, "You can't properly enjoy any blockbuster without plenty of food and setting the scene." If it was a horror film, the lights had to be off, and if it was an action film, he insisted on wearing his Captain America T-Shirt and his American flag boxers.

Arthur had questioned the lack of trousers before on many occasions, to get the reply "It makes me feel more manly." and by that point Arthur usually didn't have the energy to continue questioning his housemate.

He had a fair idea what type of film they would be watching tonight when he walked into the living room. The lights were off and and the room only illuminated by the tea lights Alfred had placed around it. Arthur could only be grateful he hadn't gone as far as to sprinkle rose petals, which would require cleaning up later – undoubtedly by him.

As the first scene came to a close, Arthur had already figured out the whole plot-line. It was your typical love story, boy meets girl over some unrealistic dilemma, relationship ensues, unneeded drama happens, back together by end of film. Arthur sighed, already bored with this nonsense, looking over towards Alfred.

He saw he was completely captivated and sobbing quietly. Arthur sighed and rolled his eyes, trying to focus back on the television screen, but couldn't help but be distracted by the American's sobbing slowly getting louder.

"Oh, for God's sake!" He cried, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

Alfred looked over at Arthur, "But it's so sad! Why would he do that to her?!"

Arthur gave him a look of disbelief, "It's only a film, besides they get back together again in the end!"

The American looked suddenly crestfallen, "You ruined the end! Why would you do that?! I wanted to see if he was going to be heroic!"

"It's predictable anyway!" Arthur grumbled, turning back to the television once again.

The next time he looked over, he could have sworn Alfred had crept closer. No it was most definitely his imagination playing tricks on him. He was still sobbing like a baby though.

Before he knew it, Alfred was resting his head on Arthur's shoulder. Arthur looked down at his house-mate and reluctantly put his arm around him and patted his shoulder, in an attempt to calm him down.

"I'm so happy they got back together!" Alfred started, looking up. His blue eyes met Arthur's emerald ones, and in that moment Arthur felt the world stop. Alfred had started at the other end of the sofa, but was now only inches away from his face. They were unable to take their eyes off each other, Arthur could still see the tears in Alfred's eyes and could feel his breath on his skin.

"A-Alfred..." Arthur began, but couldn't quite get the words to form. He could feel the blush on his cheeks and his heart thudding – which wasn't helped by the setting _at all. _He knew he should probably push the American away, but he wasn't even sure if he wanted to. Feeling his heartbeat become louder by the second, Arthur realised Alfred had placed his own hand on the Brit's shoulder and that small distance between them seemingly getting smaller and smaller, making him catch his breath slightly.

"Aww! You guys!" Came a familiar voice, breaking both of them from their trance. Alfred jumped back quickly, looking towards the direction the voice had originated from. On the armchair by the window, his twin was sat, cuddling into his stuffed polar bear, peering innocently at them both from behind it.

"What the bloody hell?!" Arthur yelled, suddenly flustered, "How long have you been there?"

Matthew smiled, "Since the start... But I didn't want to interrupt the film." He quietly replied, averting his gaze shyly.

Upon realising Matthew had seen the whole scene between them, Arthur panicked, the blush upon his cheeks getting redder, and shoved Alfred off the sofa, taking slight satisfaction on seeing the American land on his rear.

* * *

Arthur shook his head, trying to get the memory of the week before out of his mind. As much as he tried however, it seemed his mind was working against him as it always played over one particular part of he memory. 'That...that almost kiss?' Arthur said quietly to himself. He was so confused, he knew they were friends of sorts, even if the American was slightly overbearing, loud and had a bad habit of leaving a trail of mess behind him wherever he went, but, when he was that close to Arthur this time. It was different, and they had both felt it, at least Arthur hoped it was mutual.

"Ah, Arthur. Good morning" A voice said, breaking through Arthur's thoughts. He looked up in mild surprise to find his fellow council member standing before him, attempting to make conversation. The tall blond German coughed quietly, sensing the awkwardness air, and gestured they keep walking. They both shared the same lesson next, so Arthur guessed it made sence to walk to the class together.

"Good morning Ludwig." He replied quickly gaining his composure, and looked over at the man walking next to him. Like Arthur, he always made sure he was well presented, his uniform always smart and tidy, and he also had the same burning passion when it came to his studies. It was something Arthur respected about his fellow student, even if he never wished to admit it.

"I'd like to inform you that i have spoken with Mr Braginski, and the matter seems to be resolved thus far" He said to the shorter man, in his usual matter-of-a-fact tone. Arthur nodded in response, remembering that he'd volunteered Ludwig to confront the Russian on his behaviour in the last council meeting.

"Very good, I trust it went well?"

"Y-yes" Ludwig said faltering slightly, "though apparently he was raised by a pack of wolves" he said mildly amused at the memory of what Yao had said. He looked back at Arthur who had raised his eyebrows with a questioning look. Ludwig wondered if he should explain the comment to the Englishman, before Arthur chuckled.

"That, Ludwig, would not surprise me in the very least."

They turned to enter their classroom upon finally reaching their destination. business Studies, was a class they both shared, and more often than not, competed in, to get higher marks than each other. They both had parents in different successful business, so it went without saying that they both had more experience than their fellow classmates, where these matters were concerned. There was only two other students that shared their class, that perhaps, had equal knowledge in business. Yao Wang, who's parents ran many production factories throughout China, producing everything from clothes to children's toys, and Ivan Braginski. His father produced top of the range Vodka products, and it was common knowledge that Ivan had been working in the company for many years, taking charge for a short time when his father had taken a step back from the business.

Arthur walked to his seat, placing his bag beside him, as Ludwig did the same.

"Oh hello, my friends" A voice spoke. They turned around to see that the Russian was sat directly behind them, smiling. Arthur remained silent, unsure what to say, and gave a nod in response to be polite.

"Good morning, Mr Braginski" Ludwig said nodded towards the fair-haired boy and continued getting his workbooks from his bag, placing them on the desk in an ordally fashion. He had even lined his pens up in colour coordinated rows.

"Please call me Ivan, were all friends now, da?" he said smiling and looking between the two slightly startled boys. In retrospect, Ivan had never attempted to make any sort of conversation with them before, so it was safe to say they were slightly shocked now. Arthur guessed, that since Ludwig had been to his house, Ivan had taken it as a friendly gesture, and wished to try and be friendly with them both.

"Yes, sorry Ivan. Good morning" Arthur said. He was a gentleman afterall, and it would be improper of him not to return the same curtosy shown to him. Even if he was still a little intimidated, by the angelic faced boy behind him.

"Great! Now we are all friends, we will share lunch today" came the cheery response, followed by the chuckle Yao made as he took his seat next to his housemate. Ludwig and Arthur looked at each other, their expressions unreadable.

Today was certainly going to be interesting.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter =D**

**Don't kill us for the tension in this chapter! *both hide***

**- Dead and Blue over and out! **


	6. Új barátok és hamburger kihívások

**Trials, Tribulations and Textbooks.**

**Chapter 6**

**Új barátok és hamburger kihívások/New friends and hamburger challenges**

Feliciano couldn't help but smile. He took a momentary glance out of the classroom window to admire the beautiful weather outside, taking in the full glory of the pristine school gardens situated below the room. Only half an hour ago, he'd been walking through them, dressed in his new uniform, admittedly rather nervous of what his day might bring. Lovino had already left early that morning, claiming something about 'sorting out a stupid idiota and his stupid pranks', leaving him to find his own way to his classes. Feliciano wondered if he was referring to the strange item that was left of their doorstep, on the Friday that they had arrived at the academy. However strange it was to leave a bowl of cooked pasta on the doorstep, he didn't think it was a prank. It seemed too much of a kind gesture; perhaps it was a welcoming gift for their first day? In any case the younger Italian would have quite happily eaten it since he had missed out on lunch, but Lovino in a rage, had thrown it in the bin.

Today was his official first day at this new school, and to make things even better, his first lesson was Art. Feliciano had always enjoyed art, even as a young child, he just seemed to have a natural talent for it, whether it was a watercolour of a landscape, or a portrait. Sighing contently, he turned back to his painting, placing the brush back against the canvas and continued the image. The teacher had set the class a task, to test their creativity and skills. Each student was given a word, or sentence, and they had then had to make up their own interpretations on what to draw from what they had been selected to do. Feliciano had been given the word 'Break' and had decided to paint a landscape scene, with two mountains in the background, almost joining except for the 'Break' between them.

"That's really remarkable, Feli!" The teacher exclaimed peering at the image over his shoulder, "Your use of colour and your technique is truly quite something; I cannot wait to see the finished piece!"

Feliciano looked up at the teacher, and gave her a huge smile. It seemed his day was really going well. He'd already made friends with some of his classmates and Ludwig had even caught up with him outside the main building to make sure he got to his classes alright.

* * *

Feliciano had been stood on the steps reading his class schedule, when he had heard the German calling his name. He turned the see the taller boy walking towards him slightly flustered.

"Feliciano, I have been calling you all through the gardens" He said when he finally came to a halt in front of the steps. His uniform as always was clean and smartly pressed, not a wrinkle in sight. He wore the schools Navy blazer, oven the tan coloured jumper and even had the school tie up properly and fastened around his neck.

"Ve~ Ludwig, am I meant to wear the blazer too? I was going to but it was so hot I didn't want to.." Feliciano asked looking down at his own uniform.

The German shook his head, glancing at Feliciano's attire, which is when he noticed the slightly oversized jumper, "No, no, it's optional." He smiled briefly adding, "Well, classes start in a few minutes so why don't I show you which one you have?"

Feliciano passed his time table to the blond haired man, who glanced at the little square labelled 'Monday period one'.

"It seems you have art. It's through the main building," Ludwig gave a little nod to the structure behind them and they set off to begin the Italian's first day.

* * *

Once the teacher had disappeared into some art store cupboard, Feliciano glanced over at his new Japanese friend's easel.

Kiku was exceptionally good at art, much like himself, and he enjoyed the lessons a great deal. The Italian could see how much he liked them, by the effort he put into his artwork.

"Kiku, that's great!" He exclaimed suddenly, forgetting about the Japanese man's calm composure and almost startling him to death.

"Feliciano-san, you scared me a little," He breathed, placing a hand over his heart to calm his nerves, "But thank you."

Feliciano stared at the picture, taking in the breath-taking scenery depicted upon the canvas, "A mountain? Cool! So what word did you get?" He moved over in front of the easel, budging Kiku out of the way to get a better look.

"I got the word Frozen, so I drew the top of Mount Fuji during winter," He placed down his paintbrush and paint palette, whilst reaching for a cloth to wipe his hands, "It's amazing in real life."

The hyper boy frowned, "You're finished already?"

"Yes, it does not take me as long to paint as it does to do draw."

Feliciano looked over at his own painting. He did not think it was anywhere near finished, let alone during this lesson. He guessed he should take after Kiku and concentrate hard on thinking about the task at hand. It was going to require a lot of hard work, but the outcome would be worth it, since his teacher said she would put it on display if it was good enough!

* * *

Feliciano walked out of the classroom with a drawn out sigh. The last lesson he had was Maths, which was a subject he hardly understood and he doubted he ever would. Why would you need letters with numbers anyway? His teacher had gotten frustrated, because he had kept putting his hand up to ask for help. He got embarrassed because all the other students had found it so easy, a couple of students in his class had even been muttered quietly and snickered in his direction.

Peering down the corridor he saw other students exiting their own classrooms and chatting away. He searched the crowd for his brother, he didn't want to go to lunch on his own and he hadn't seen him since breakfast this morning. The other student's loud behaviour scared him a little, and wherever he looked he didn't recognise anybody he knew.

Apprehensively, he started walking down the corridor, holding on to his bag nervously. It was just as he was starting to feel small and intimidated by those around him that he spotted a familiar face talking with an older student.

"Kiku!" He called, waving cheerily at the Japanese man. He ran over and gave him a massive hug, making Kiku look flustered.

"Hello, Feliciano-Kun we were just going to the cafeteria. You look like you are alone so why don't you join us?" Kiku offered, once the Italian had released him from his grip.

Feliciano looked between Kiku and his fellow student, his eyes wide with happiness, "Can I? I'm so hungry, and the thought of going in there on my own really scares me, especially after last time, _Fratello _got in a fight with a friendly Spanish boy!" He said quickly, bouncing up and down excitedly with the prospect of food.

"Aw! He's so cute! I'm Elizaveta, by the way," A female voice came from beside Kiku, she patted Feliciano on the head affectionately, smiling warmly. From her uniform, Feliciano could guess she was in the year above him. She wore a pretty pink flower in her long brown hair, "A Spanish boy you say? He wasn't with a perverted looking blond Frenchman and a silver haired idiot, was he?"

Feliciano nodded, "I was in the cafeteria trying to get pasta and I think they were trying to be friendly, but brother threw a tomato at him..."

Kiku and Elizaveta looked at each other and grinned, knowing The Bad Touch Trio, it had probably been deserved.

"I think we should go to the cafeteria now, before everyone else buys all the food," Kiku said, "Plus, we don't want to miss out on Alfred's hamburger challenge," He said with a slight grin.

Elizaveta smiled and took Feliciano's hand, as the Italian still looked a bit reluctant, "It's okay, and you'll be fine with us!"

* * *

Ludwig could say this was the most awkward lunch he had ever had. He stared around the round table at those who he sat with. He much preferred to spend his lunch alone, enjoying his meal in quiet. Usually he sat with his textbooks out, using the time to finish his notes from class. There was the odd occasion he would sit with his brother, but only when his idiot friends weren't with him, and they would study together. Gilbert helped him occasionally with his work when he was stuck on a particularly difficult part, not that Ludwig would ever tell anyone. Where Gilbert feigned being stupid, Ludwig prided himself on being intellectual. He tried to keep his gaze focused on his meal, avoiding the stares from Ivan who was sat next to him.

Alfred was sat across from him, shovelling hamburgers into his mouth, every so often stopping to grin at Ivan, who was goading him on with remarks such as, "I bet you can't eat all of those," and, "You won't be able to eat those, you're not a man!". The American stopped eating momentarily, to stare at the Russian, who currently wore an expression of amusement.

"I can eat them all, because I'm the hero!" He proclaimed pointing his finger into the air and making everyone around the table, including Ludwig, roll their eyes. Alfred always had the habit of claiming to be a hero no matter what he was doing.

Yao laughed merrily, cracking a few jokes every now and again, which made them all chuckle. They were mostly about Ivan, so how he got away with it was still unknown to everyone. It was only him who could get away with saying thing like that about Ivan. Ludwig watched them in wonder. He could only guess that the two were close friends, considering the friendly banter they often had, and that the pair often spent a lot of time with each other.

The Englishman, who sat next to Ludwig, put down his teacup, sighing at Alfred. Arthur looked incredulously at the American, wonder written across his face. Ludwig felt the same, how Alfred could eat so much without being sick was a mystery.

As he was just about to make a remark, a hand was placed on his shoulder. Upon looking up to see who it belonged to, he smiled politely at Kiku.

"Ludwig-Kun, how many has he eaten?" The black haired Japanese man chuckled, switching his eyes to the sight of Alfred stuffing the food in his mouth once again.

Ludwig also glanced over, before replying, "Around ten or twelve. I have a feeling he will suffer the consequences later though." Arthur grunted in agreement, taking another sip of his tea. Ludwig shuffled his chair aside, giving room for Kiku to drag over a chair. He then noticed Feliciano and Elizaveta behind Kiku, Elizaveta still holding Feliciano's hand, and her food tray in the other.

"Oh, so you met our Italian friend then?" He asked, watching as Kiku placed two more chairs by the table for the pair still standing, before stealing a quick glance at Feliciano.

Kiku nodded, "Yes, he seems rather nice. We have art class together; Feliciano-Kun has quite a talent."

Ludwig simply nodded in return and smiled at Feliciano and Elizaveta, "Hello, Feliciano, Miss Héderváry."

The Hungarian rolled her eyes, raising her eyebrows at the formality. She placed her hands on her hips, "Ludwig, I said this before. Just call me Elizaveta," She corrected, taking a seat next to Kiku and patting the one on the other side of her and next to Ludwig, "Feliciano, sit here, come on."

Feliciano walked over and sat down in the seat placing his food tray on the table in front of him. He was happy that he'd managed to get his beloved pasta finally; he had been worried that there wouldn't be anything left when they had finally reached the cafeteria, but the lovely dinner lady managed to rustle some up in the kitchen for him when he started to get upset.

He picked up his fork and began to eat, looking around the table at all the new faces, and chuckled when he noticed the blond boy struggling to stuff yet more hamburgers into his mouth, earning a loud sigh from the Englishman next to him, as he put his head in his hands. The tall, yet scary looking boy next to him was taking great delight at seeing him struggle , laughing whilst his friend held him down, so that the Russian could shove the remaining hamburgers in his mouth.

"How have you been since the last time I'd seen you, Feliciano?" A voice spoke, drawing his attention from the humorous scene across the table. He looked to the boy beside him, smiling.

"Oh, it's been great! I've made some new friends, but not in my maths lesson, they were really mean. I really like my art class though, and the teacher is so friendly too! She said that if my painting is good enough when I finish it, she will put it on display in the art department!" Feliciano gushed, telling Ludwig excitedly.

Ludwig gave him a nod, taking a moment to catch up with the fast talking Italian.

"I'm not very good with art; admittedly I do wish I could be better at it. I much prefer history or your dreaded mathematics. In fact I believe we have history together after lunch, do you have you schedule with you?" he asked motioning towards Feliciano's bag. He nodded quickly, unzipping his bad and pulling out the class schedule, before handing it to Ludwig. He took the paper from the smaller boy and studied it for a moment.

"Yes, right after lunch like myself. I can walk with you to the class if you would like?" He offered, earning a huge smile in return.

"That would be great!" Feliciano said between mouthfuls of pasta, "Ve, Ludwig, maybe I could help you with your art? Then maybe you could help me with my maths homework…I really don't want to be laughed at again"

Ludwig considered this for a moment. It was probably a good idea to help him; after all it was part of his duties as a peer mentor, and perhaps as a friend.

* * *

**A/N **Thankyou to those who have reviewed our story and also to those who are reading it!

We hope you enjoy it as always

Please leave us comment and reviews, it makes us smile!

- Dead and Blue


	7. Los berrinches y tutoría

**Trials, Tribulations and Textbooks**

**Chapter 7**

**Los berrinches y tutoría / Tantrums and Tutoring**

Lovino wasn't having quite the same day as his brother Feliciano was; in fact it seemed to be going the complete opposite. Firstly, he had managed to get himself lost in search of his first lesson. Secondly he'd discovered that someone had decided to enrol him in Spanish classes. And finally to top things off, when he had found the Spanish lesson, _he_ was there. Apparently someone or something was set out to ruin his day.

When Lovino had reached his classroom he was half an hour late, flustered and annoyed. As it turned out, he had passed this room first on his search for it, and completely obvious to the fact, had walked right past and ended up at the other end of the school. Grumbling with his head held low, he pushed the classroom door open, mumbling his apologises quietly, waiting for the teacher to reprimand him on his late arrival. However instead of hearing a teacher's stern voice, he heard a familiar cheery one speak to him, drawing his attention upwards.

"Ah! Hello there stranger! And there I was worried you couldn't face seeing me again" The voice spoke, making the usual scowl form on Lovino's face. Antonio was at the front of the room, leaning against the teacher's desk. Surely to god they didn't allow third years to teach classes in this school did they? Especially when they were as stupid as the Spaniard in front of him, Lovino thought glaring at the grin upon the boy's face.

"What are you doing here bas—," Lovino had begun to say angrily, when the teacher appeared in the doorway behind him, his arms filled with textbooks, cutting Lovino's reply short.

"Ah you must be Mr Vargas, am I right? _Hola y bienvenidos a mi clase!_" the teacher said happily, a smile on his face as he placed the textbooks in Lovino's arms, "_Pase estos libros a la clase por favour"_

Lovino looked at the teacher with a blank expression, not understanding a word that had been spoken to him and from behind him he could hear the chuckles of the third year, mingling with the quieter ones from a couple of the students already at their desks. The teacher walked past Lovino and took his place at the front of the class, picking up a notebook from the desk.

"As I was saying earlier class, we have the pleasure of Mr Carriedo's company for the next few weeks. We thought it would benefit you all greatly learning the language from a native Spanish speaker, and we are lucky enough to have our very own."

"Ah it's really my pleasure Mr Trevano. _No tengo duda de que esta será una experiencia interesante"_ Antonio said gazing over to Lovino, who was still stood awkwardly in the doorway, with such an intense glare focused on the Spaniard. Lovino knew that whatever Antonio had said, it had been aimed at him. Following Antonio's gaze Mr Trevano noticed as well that he was still rooted in the same spot, and hadn't even moved to hand out any of the books as he had instructed.

"Tell me Mr Vargas, why did you enrol in my class if you don't understand any of the language I teach?"

Lovino couldn't hide the embarrassment that came over his face, as the class looked over at him, some rather amused. It wasn't as if he had even chosen to be in this class in the first place.

"I didn't choose Spanish…" he muttered quietly, choosing to look down at the floor, unsure of what he was supposed to be doing. Mr Trevano sighed feeling somewhat sorry for the new student. He knew that he would struggle in his class, since the students were a years' worth of work ahead of him, and at their ability level, he taught many classes in the Spanish dialect. He had no doubt that Lovino had probably ended up in his class due to lack of spaces available in many of the other options. Taking a moment to think, he came to a decision, one he hoped would help the new student catch up to the same level of the others in his class.

"My apologises, Mr Vargas, I hadn't realised you were new to the language. Let's get you settled first and I will go through with you what we will be doing today. If you could kindly hand out those books and take the spare seat at the back there, I will come over in a moment and have a talk with you" the teacher said gesturing towards the spare desk, with a reassuring nod. Lovino simply nodded in return, not wishing to speak and embarrass himself any further and did as he was asked, feeling the third years eyes follow him as he walked through the lines of desks.

As the teacher began to inform the class of the lesson for the day, Lovino took his seat, dropping his bag by his feet. He really didn't want to be here, even more so now he realised that Antonio would be assisting the class for the next few weeks. He wasn't sure if he would have felt differently if he hadn't had the previous run in with the Spaniard, the week before. Lovino had already decided it was the Spanish boy's fault for the incident in the cafeteria. He was too damn close to Feliciano for his liking, and he knew his brother was too naive to see the motives behind Antonio's actions. Unzipping his bag, he pulled out his pencil case, placing it on the table, unaware of Mr Trevano's arrival at his desk.

"Mr Vargas, for today I have prepared some work for you to do instead of the lesson, since you're a beginner here. Also.." The teacher placed a binder on the desk in front of him, "Mr Carriedo has kindly agreed to tutor you outside of class, to help you catch up with the work you have missed." Mr Trevano said, smiling at Lovino before looking back to the front of the class. Lovino's face was one of horror at what he had been told, and he couldn't help but feel that familiar anger creeping back up. Antonio was currently leant over a desk, smiling and talking with a couple of girls, who were giggling and staring at him with adoration. He glowered at him before turning back to his teacher, attempting to argue the decision that had been made.

"What?! I don't want lessons from that _idiota!_" he said almost yelling, before folding his arms over his chest. Mr Trevano gave Lovino a confused look and shook his head at the Italians stubborn and childlike behaviour.

"It has already been decided Mr Vargas. Now if you wish to pass my class I suggest you meet with Mr Carriedo after your classes today, and try to appreciate the opportunity you have been given." He said in a stern tone, walking away from the desk and leaving Lovino to his sulk. He decided he hated this teacher as well as this class.

"_Mi tomate"_ Antonio said a playful manner as he sauntered over to where Lovino was sat. He put his arm around his back and rested his hand on the Italians chair, leaning down close to whisper in the angry brunettes ear, "It's the least I can do, I still owe you for ruining my fun in the cafeteria, with your much cuter brother"

Lovino didn't even turn to look at him, instead opening the binder on the desk and turned the pages slowly, trying to ignore the Spaniard. He knew he was just trying to rile him up again, and as much as Lovino wanted to throttle him, he just didn't have the energy.

"Maybe you can invite little Feliciano along too? It would be good to see him again, _mi tomate"_

"I hate you."

* * *

Antonio couldn't hide his grin as he walked through the school corridors. He had just finished his last class, and was currently on his way back to the student accommodation area, having already seen Gilbert and Francis earlier in the day to inform them of the amusing lesson he had that morning, and to let them know of his plans for that evening. He had only agreed to help out with the second year's Spanish lesson to get himself out of trouble with the headmistress yet again. He was sure Ms Cavendish just liked his company, since he always wound up in her office one way or another.

Like most students that had a preferred hang out area, the Bad Touch Trio was no exception. Every day, after their classes had ended, all of them would congregate to the main building's roof. None of them were in any clubs or after school classes, detentions not included, so they wasted their time away, listening to music, chatting and plotting up different mischief together in the secluded space. The three friends were joined by their Danish companion and band member Den, on many of occasion. He was just as much of a trouble maker as the rest of them, often helping in their plans or talking about his band 'The Nordic Five'. In any case, it was one of the only spots on the school grounds, with the exception of their accommodations, where they could sneak the crafty cigarette, or drink until the early hours, without being caught. Antonio was quite surprised they had managed to get away with being up there all time really, since it was meant to be off-limits to students, not that any of them particularly cared for the school rules and regulations anyway. Some of their best ideas had been formulated on that rooftop, usually after one too many beers that either Den or Gilbert supplied to their gatherings.

Credit had to be given to the Frenchman for their most recent escapade. It had originally been Francis brilliant yet perverted mind that came up with the idea to water bomb the girls' sports team, and what kind of friend would he have been not to participate and miss out on a chance to sneak looks at the soaked girls? If it wasn't for that homicidal midget, Vash, they probably would have gotten away with it too. When he had found out what they had done, he had stormed straight up to the roof to confront them, threatening to beat them to a pulp with a blunt object, whilst his younger sister Lily hid behind him, attempting to convince him otherwise. With all of his yelling, he had drawn the attention of the P.E teacher to where they had been hiding. Mrs Curtis was the only teacher no one at the school dared to disrespect, despite her small stature. She was a formidable force, which even the Bad Touch Trio knew better than to argue with. Antonio's legs still hurt days later, after she had forced the four of them to run around the race track until they were sober. If any of them even dropped their pace, she threw one of the beer bottles at their feet to make them run faster. He shivered at the memory; Mrs Curtis had even made them clean up all the glass after, whist sat on a chair, smoking a cigarette.

Antonio pulled his bag higher up on his shoulder as he approached his destination, planting his infamous grin back upon his face. Walking down the small path to the house in front of him, he reached up and knocked the door, waiting for someone to answer it. After a couple of minutes he tried again, but this time knocking louder determined to get a response from one of the houses' occupants.

"What the hell do you want?" A voice spoke from behind him. He turned to see Lovino stood a scowl on his face, and holding a grocery bag in one of his hands. He walked towards his front door, pushing the older student out of the way, annoyed that the idiot was currently outside his home. Antonio held his ground and watched as the Italian fumbled to get his key in the lock, avoiding his gaze, all of his attention on the door before him. Lovino managed to get the door open, after a short battle with the lock and walked inside, and attempted to close the door behind him. He growled at the Spaniard, when he held the door open and let himself in.

"Ah but dear little Lovi, I'm your tutor for this evening. You haven't forgotten already have you?" Antonio said dramatically, putting a hand over his chest and shooting Lovino a sad expression, whilst shutting the front door behind them.

"Get lost, and get out of my house" Lovino spat back, unimpressed by Antonio's acting, "I don't need your help" He said turning and walking towards the kitchen to put the groceries away. Undeterred Antonio followed him through the hallway, chuckling to himself and dropping his bag by the stairs. He watched the Italian began putting the items away in different cupboards, slamming the doors shut as he went, amused by how easily flustered he was.

"Is Feliciano here?" He asked, noticing how his question caused Lovino to stop in his tracks.

"I've told you before, stay away from my brother. Why are you so obsessed with him anyway? Idiot" Lovino replied monotone before continuing to put the last of the items away, determined to not to be distracted from the task at hand. Antonio raised an eyebrow slightly and walked towards him, reaching out to take a hold of Lovino's wrist. The younger man tried to pull away to no avail and Antonio pushed him back against the kitchen countertop.

"What are you doing, bastard?!" He yelled attempting the push the Spaniard in retaliation.

"Are you jealous?"

"What?!"

"You heard me, Lovi. Are you jealous that I am showing an interest in your brother?" Antonio asked again, still firmly holding onto Lovino's wrist. There was a brief pause before Lovino replied.

"No. No I am not jealous idiot" Lovino said quietly, unable to stop the red hue from forming upon his cheeks. He wasn't entirely sure what to think, when it came to Antonio if he was completely honest with himself. The only thing he could be certain of was that he was embarrassed, tired and annoyed at his persistent questioning. He glanced up to meet the green eyes of the man before him.

Antonio had to admit he was slightly confused at Lovino's response to him. He had half expected to be yelled and cursed at, even punched by the fiery Italian he had pinned in front of him. He could tell just by looking at his eyes, that what he had said was a lie, and as he stared down at Lovino's face, seeing the blush that had formed there, Antonio couldn't help but notice how cute an expression he wore. Without even realising what he was doing, he began to raise his hand to Lovino's face, ignoring how Lovino tried to push him away, and cupped the cheek of the smaller Italian, making him turn to face him. Lovino refused to meet Antonio's eyes, until the moment he felt him press his lips against his own.

* * *

**A/N **Hello! *wave* Dead here!

I hope you enjoy the latest chapter for this story, Blue is currently busy, so sadly for you guys, i took over and wrote this chapter! *evil laugh*

Thankyou to everyone that has reviewed and read the story so far and there is more to come, i send cupcakes your way!...Well...if i had any cupcakes that is...

Over and out!

-Dead

**Tanslations:**

**_Hola y bienvenidos a mi clase!-_** Hello and welcome to my class

_**Pase estos libros a la clase por favor.-** _Pass these books to the class please

**_No tengo duda de que esta será una experiencia interesante_**. – I have no doubt this will be an interesting experience.

**_Idiota_** – idiot

**_Mi tomate_** – My tomato


	8. 错误的诠释

**Trials, Tribulations and Textbooks**

**Chapter 8**

**错误的诠释/ Wrong interpretations.**

"Hey, Ludwig? I you really don't have to trouble yourself in helping me with my homework.." Feliciano said, swinging his backpack by his side and looking up at the taller blond walking next to him. Where Feliciano was still wearing his school uniform, Ludwig was currently in more casual attire. He wore a pair of faded blue jeans, teamed with a black t-shirt, with a kaki coloured hoodie over the top. Ludwig's last lesson for the day had been physical education, so he had taken the time after the bell hand rung to stop off at his home to shower and change. He had been quite surprised to still find Feliciano at the schools main building after classes had ended for the day, expecting the young Italian to have taken to opportunity to escape with the rest of the students. However Ludwig had found him outside the one of the Art rooms, flirting with a couple of female students and inadvertently making a fool of himself before Ludwig had stepped in and 'rescued' him. That was Ludwig's mental justification for his actions in any case.

"It's no trouble. Part of my duties as your peer mentor is to oversee that you are coping with the school and your studies." He replied formally, as if reciting from one of his many textbooks. The pair were currently walking through the schools gardens, which was taking longer than Ludwig had hoped, due to Feliciano's fascination with all the different plants and flowers around them.

"Ve~ so pretty Ludwig! See all the different colours! Maybe we could paint out here one day? Do you think we can?" Feliciano asked in a flurry of hyper questions, flapping his arms wildly. Ludwig sighed, feeling a familiar dull pain form in his temples. He just had a feeling that the evening would defiantly be a long and challenging one.

When they eventually neared the home that the Vargas brothers shared, both stopped in their tracks when they heard a crash from inside the house, followed by a muffled shout. Out of the corner of his eye Ludwig noticed Feliciano trembling slightly.

"Maybe _Fratello_ is in a mood again..?" he said nervously, shuffling closer to Ludwig. Ludwig looked down at the brunette next to him, and placed a reassuring hand upon his shoulder.

"Give me your keys, I will go in first if you like?" he offered putting his other palm out. Feliciano nodded, reaching into his pocket and pulling the key out, placing it into his hand. They walked hurriedly towards the front door, and Ludwig quickly unlocked it walking inside, Feliciano following a pace behind him.

"_Fratello_?" Feliciano called meekly, peering out from behind Ludwig's back. The German turned to look around the hallway and into the living room, before looking at Feliciano shaking by the door.

"Stay here" he ordered, walking towards the kitchen, aware that the Italian took no notice of his words, and was trailing behind him nervously. Ludwig pushed the door open, noticing a couple of tins and an open packet of spaghetti splayed across the tiled floor, before his eyes travelled up to the countertop near the kitchen window.

"_Fratello_?" Feliciano called out in questioning shock, his eyes wide and his expression a mixture of confusion and embarrassment, at what he was witnessing.

Upon hearing his brother's voice, Lovino's eyes snapped open. Not sure how to react to the audience that had appeared in the kitchen, he quickly shoved Antonio away, with all the strength he could muster, watching as the Spaniard hit the kitchen table in surprise. Antonio picked himself up and looked over to the doorway, finally realising that the two boys were stood there, and laughed nervously. Lovino's face once again held a furious, along with a flaming shade of crimson.

"Antonio! Explain yourself this instant!" Ludwig yelled storming over to the Spanish boy, currently resting against the wooden kitchen table. Antonio gave him a confused look, baffled as to what he needed to explain to the German before him.

"What?"

"What? That's all you have to say, when you clearly were forcing yourself on Feliciano's brother?!"

From the doorway Feliciano's eyes darted between the two, unsure of what to do, before he rushed over to Lovino, hugging his arm.

"_Fratello_? Antonio attacked you? But I thought he was so friendly and nice?" he stammered out teary eyed after listening to Ludwig's accusations. He was a bundle of tears as he tried looking at Lovino's face. Lovino clenched his knuckles tighter into his palms, refusing to look at his younger brother. He wasn't even sure what had just happened, so there was no way in hell he was able or even going to explain his mess of emotions going through his mind, to Feliciano. Yes, Antonio had kissed him, yet despite his immediate reluctance, he hadn't stopped him, instead he had kissed him back, caught up in the passion of the moment. He doubted his sibling would even understand if he tried; Feliciano was too innocent and naive. Instead Lovino did the only thing he could think of at that moment.

"I hate you all! Especially you, bastard!" he yelled pointing angrily at Antonio, who held his hands up defensively, before he proceeded to flee from the kitchen and straight out the front door, slamming it shut behind him. Feliciano watched as his brother ran, and began to take off after him, before a muscled arm held him back. He looked up and into Ludwig's piercing blue eyes.

"Leave him be." Was all Ludwig said, and all that was needed to make Feliciano stop in his pursuit. He shot one last worried glance towards the direction of the front door before slowly walking over to the sink. Ludwig looked back over to Antonio, his angry expression replacing the comforting one he had given to Feliciano.

"What did I do?!" Antonio asked seemingly unaware as to why everyone was angry at him, "I only kissed him it's not like we ha—"he began to say, protesting his innocence as Ludwig grabbed the back of his shirt, pulling him from the kitchen.

"I know very well what you are like. You forget, I am brothers with one of your idiotic 'Bad Touch Trio' members, and am quite familiar to behaviour like yours." He growled angrily dragging him through the hallway, not caring if he was hurting the older student. He had the height and strength advantage in this situation, that and he was furious. He was well aware that Antonio had a reputation for being a flirt, and immediately knew what the pair had been doing in the kitchen, but some part of him, when he saw the shock on Feliciano's face made him want to protect him. Almost to preserve that innocence that Feliciano still held in his eyes, that not many his age still had these days. Ludwig had to admit, he found it a rather endearing quality.

He opened the front door and promptly through the struggling boy through it, letting him fall on his rear on the concrete outside.

"What the hell Ludwig?! Not cool!" Antonio yelled from his spot on the floor, quickly moving out of the way as his backpack came barrelling towards him, landing in a heap next to him. He looked up just in time to see the door slam shut.

"Ve~ Ludwig, wasn't that a bit mean?" Feliciano asked quietly, moving closer to him, "Maybe he wasn't actually attacking him like we thought? Maybe he was just trying to be friendly to Lovino too?"

Ludwig shook his head at Feliciano's attempt to reason with what he had just witnessed, the brunette looking up at him with those large eyes of his. Even after Ludwig had chucked the Spaniard out of his home, he was still trying to think the best of him, unaware of what had really happened. He gestured towards the living room.

"Let's make a start on your maths homework, shall we?"

* * *

Meanwhile, further down the streets of the student village, Arthur strolled peacefully, content with humming one of his favourite punk songs, as he made the short journey towards his own home. He had heard the commotion coming from one of the houses behind him, but chose to ignore it, passing it off as some childish squabble. At the moment all he was interested in was the idea of being able to rest his weary limbs, with a fresh pot of tea and a good novel. He had just finished his duties in the school's library. He was one of the student library assistants, a job he took great pleasure in doing, considering his love for literature, and often spent hours lost amongst the shelves of books.

He reached his home, with a weary sigh, and let himself inside, ready to finally have the chance to relax, when he was met with the loud yelling of his obnoxious housemate coming from the living room. He could make out the familiar noise of one of Alfred's video games in the background, turned up loud, and with the mixture of that and the voices, it almost felt like the floor shook from underneath him. Arthur furrowed his eyebrows angrily and stormed into the front room, ready to give the American a piece of his mind, when his eyes fell on the person sat next to him.

"What the bloody hell is going on? And why is the wolf child in our living room?!" He yelled angrily, his voice scarcely heard over the noise.

Alfred didn't even turn his gaze from the television set; locked into whatever battle he was competing in, "Gimme a minute Artie! I'm kinda busy here!"

"Busy losing" Ivan said chuckling, as his in-game character knocked Alfred's to the floor in victory. Alfred pouted at the loss and turned to acknowledge the angry Brit.

"Aww, you made me lose Artie!" he whined as Ivan merely chuckled.

"How did I make you lose exactly? And stop calling me Artie. My name is Arthur and I'm sure even someone with your I.Q can remember that" he retorted, taking in the mess that the living room was currently in. Empty crisp packets and chocolate wrappers littered the floor, some form of fizzy drink hand been spilt on the carpet and the sofa cushions were haphazardly in a heap in the corner of the room. Alfred shot an amused grin at his Russian companion and challenged him to yet another round of their game, to which Ivan happily accepted, lifting his controller.

"Oh no you don't!" Arthur warned, stomping in front of the television, his hand on his hips, "Not until you have tidied up this filth!" he demanded, gesturing around the room. Ivan looked over at Alfred, a wicked grin upon his face.

"Does he always act like your mother?"

"Sometimes, but his cooking is worse. I'm telling ya! The other day he made these weird cake things, scones I think they were called, but they were like black rocks! I think I almost broke my tooth."

"I know English food is bad, but to even burn something as simple as that?"

Arthur's eyes darted between the two that were mocking his cuisine angrily, before giving up trying to argue with them. He was quite simply too tired to deal with their childish behaviour, so he stomped out of the room heading for the kitchen, with the intent of making himself a well-deserved cup of tea.

When he reached the kitchen, he headed towards one of the cupboards, fitted upon the wall, selecting a box of Earl Grey, from his large selection of different teas, when a distinctive scent met his nose. He looked over to the source of smell to find Ivan's Chinese housemate chopping up a variety of vegetables effortlessly, adding them to the wok as he went.

"What the hell is this? Have you invited the entire school over to our house?" Arthur yelled through to the living room aiming his statement at the American, as he placed his box of teabags on the counter. He waited for a moment, but received no reply, and he simply huffed in annoyance, picking up the kettle and taking it to the sink to fill with water. Yao had finished preparing the Vegetables and made sure to throw the remaining cuttings into the rubbish bin as he went. Once Arthur had filled the kettle sufficiently with water he placed it back in its spot and set it to boil, he finally received a delayed reply.

"Dude not the entire school! Kiku's not even here yet! Anyways, me and Ivan have a score to settle" Arthur sighed and looked over to where Yao was cooking. He supposed he should offer his assistance since he was a guest in their home after all.

"Is there anything you would like me to do?" he offered standing beside the cooker, watching as Yao stirred the mixture of meat, vegetables and sauce in the wok. Yao looked up at the Brit, appreciating his gesture, but declining none the less.

"No. It's alright; I've heard many tales of your cooking attempts Arthur, and I really don't want the meal to get burnt or anyone to get food poisoning" he replied cheerfully, despite managing to insult Arthur, and returned to the task at hand. Arthur's eyebrow twitched angrily at Yao's rude remarks, and after he had been a gentleman too. At least when Kiku arrived he would have someone he could actually converse with, he thought sullenly. He returned back to the kettle, realising it had boiled, and prepared his drink.

* * *

After about ten minutes, there was a knock at the front door, stirring Arthur from quietly enjoying sipping his tea at the kitchen table. He rose to go and answer the door, not expecting the American to have even noticed the knocking, but was shoved out of the way by Alfred, who was determined to get there before him.

"Kiku, dude! You bring the extra controller?" He asked excitedly when he opened the door, revealing the quiet Japanese man. Kiku nodded holding up a bag containing the mentioned controller and several different games.

"Of course Alfred-Kun. I also brought over some of the games we were talking about before. I hope you enjoy them" he replied politely, entering the house and taking off his shoes. He placed them neatly beside the coatrack and followed Alfred into the front room, nodding at Arthur.

"Hello Arthur-Kun. I hope you are well?" He asked giving the Brit a small smile as Alfred took the bag from him and returned to the games console, pulling out different games cases.

"Yes thank you, apart from all the racket" Arthur said, glaring over at Ivan and Alfred that were conversing again, this time over the games that Kiku had brought with him, "Would you like some tea?" he offered walking back towards the kitchen.

"Hey dude, these games totally rock! Kiku man I've set your controller up, come play!" Alfred interrupted, bounding over and linking his arm with the smaller man's. Kiku looked apologetically at Arthur as he was dragged to the sofa. Both Ivan and Alfred locked eyes, with a competitive grin playing on their faces.

"Maybe in a little while Arthur-Kun"

Arthur sighed again, and sat back down at the kitchen table, picking up his cup and draining the last of the liquid. He was accompanied by Yao, who sat in a chair next to him wearing an expression of amusement.

"My bet is on Kiku beating the both of them and Alfred sobbing into Ivan's scarf when the sugar overload wears off"

* * *

**A/N -** Heya, as promised - a new chapter!

Blue will be back soon i promise! *hides*

Review, comment and enjoy!

- Dead

**Translations**

_Fratello_ - Brother


	9. Le frère jumeau

**Trials, Tribulations and Textbooks**

**Chapter 9**

**Le frère jumeau/Twin Brother**

The two exited the house, bidding their farewells to Arthur and Alfred. After a rather eventful evening, they were heading home. Ivan was in a sulk because he had lost five times to Kiku on his video game and Yao happily patted his pocket, ten pounds richer.

"You should play with Kiku and Alfred more often, Ivan. You're making me rich here!" Yao chuckled. After they had gotten bored of conversing and drinking tea, Yao and Arthur had made their way into the living room, not because they wanted to watch the match, but simply because they had agreed upon a bet. If Kiku beat both Alfred and Ivan, Yao would win. And if the pair beat Kiku, Arthur would be the richer man. Of course, Kiku had managed to show his talents surrounding the computer game and managed to beat Ivan and Alfred consecutively, much to their dismay.

Arthur had soon become tired of the American's whining mixed with Ivan's grunts of yet another rematch, settling quickly into a bad mood and kicked Ivan and Yao out. Kiku, who had been smart enough, had left earlier, shortly after he had beaten the two, and had left the pair to their bickering.

Ivan grumbled something almost silently as Yao linked his arm with the Russian, both picking up their pace to reach home. It was getting dark rather quickly tonight and both would prefer to be relaxing inside than to be out in the cold air of the student village. Although they had just gone back to school, winter was setting in quickly this year, and despite the fact Ivan had his scarf, neither was prepared for the cold weather yet. Ivan fiddled with the cream coloured scarf around his neck. Earlier in the evening, Ivan had almost strangled Alfred with his beloved scarf, because he had simply spilt cola on it, during a match that had obviously required moving with the controller and Alfred had gotten into the game a little too much.

They walked briskly, in time with each other's footsteps, passing the houses on either side of them, neither bothering to look at anything but the path in front of them.

"It's only September, why's it so cold?" Yao moaned, shivering slightly, "It's never this cold in China during autumn..."

Ivan smiled, not that creepy, menacing smile that would usually adorn his face, but a sweet, innocent one that graced his features, only reserved for Yao, "We are in England, Yao. It's well known for having bad weather year round. Surely you know that, da?" He chuckled at the Chinese man, as his brow furrowed in the middle. He wrapped his arm around him, rubbing his shoulder to keep him warm.

Yao quickly looked around him, to make sure there weren't any other students out and about, before relaxing into the Russian's embrace. The couple had to be careful, their relationship quite a close kept secret. Ivan knew of this, though he was less careful to reserve his actions around others, but Yao was more observant and served to keep check on how Ivan behaved with him in public. One wrong move and their secret could slip out. It's not that they were ashamed of their secret, they just knew how rumours and gossip spread in the school and they didn't want any part of that.

The Chinese man looked up at Ivan, smiling back, "I know, I'm just not used to it, that's all." He tried to put his own arm around the man, but groaned, "Damn, why are you so tall?!"

"So I can bear hug you!" Ivan almost yelled, wrapping both arms around the shorter man and lifting him from the floor into a bone-crunching hug, all the while, still managing to walk. He laughed heartily, walking with Yao in his arms for a few more feet, his legs swaying, ignoring his companion's protests.

Yao struggled to get free, fighting a losing battle with Ivan, "Oh come on, this is hardly fair! You said it yourself; I'm small and huggable, whilst you're built like a brick house!" He wriggled his legs, trying in vain to get free, all the while; the Russian just tightened his grip lovingly.

Eventually, Ivan placed the black haired man back on his feet, and petted his head affectionately, "I was only playing! Obviously you can't take a real man's hug!"

Yao looked up from his bent over position and glared at the Russian, "Playing like a cat plays with a mouse! I wouldn't be surprised if you've broken a few of my ribs!" He then cursed at him in Chinese, rubbing at his sides, whilst quietly plotting revenge against Ivan. They looked over at the building next to them, noticing that they had reached their own house. Walking up the pathway, they noticed Sophia and another person exiting through the front door. On closer inspection, it turned out to be someone rather familiar to Ivan.

"Hey! I just finished beating you, why are you at my house?!" Ivan yelled, fully intending to finish strangling the boy with his stained scarf. The boy, whom Ivan thought was the American, turned with a terrified look plastered upon his face. He trembled and edged to the side, seeking shelter from Sophia. The Russian was raging again, all short of running up to the boy and punching him, but Yao held him back,

"Ivan! Calm down, that's not Alfred! It's his twin, Matthew!" Yao placed his hand on Ivan's shoulder, reassuring him that it was not Matthew he needed to punish. Matthew took a deep breath of relief, glad that at that moment, someone had realised who he was for a change. He was so used to being on the receiving end of people's anger, when they confused him for his twin. Yet when he wanted or needed to be noticed, hardly anyone ever seemed to see him. That was except for Sophia, she had always acknowledged him, from the first day they had met in the school's library, at one of her advice sessions. He was in the first year back then, and had gone along to the group, in hopes he may make some new friends. Despite Sophia being in the year above him, they had quickly become friends, both sharing the same interests and passions about their dreams to help others.

"Oh," Ivan mumbled, stopping his anger from surfacing any more. He walked up to the front door, before looking in confusion at his sister, "Why are you always here, anyway?"

Matthew was quickly forgotten, almost blending into the background as Sophia raised her eyebrow at her younger brother, "Well, if I don't come by, who else is going to clean your mess?" She asked, sceptically glancing at her brother's sheepish look.

"Yao can!" He declared, pointing enthusiastically at the man who had just reached the front door, a little slower than his Russian companion because of bruised ribs.

"Like hell I will! I'm not your maid," He grumbled pushing his way past Ivan with the force that only he could get away with.

Sophia looked between the two with a knowing look. She had a fair idea that their relationship was more than friendship, but would never dream of mentioning her thoughts. She was a firm believer that when the time was ready, they would tell her.

"You can be if you want," He whispered as the Chinese man walked past, making him turn with wide eyes and crimson face.

Yao placed his hands on his hips, "Hey, don't be getting any ideas!" He answered through gritted teeth, thwacking Ivan on top of his head playfully, opening the front door and walking inside, quickly followed by Ivan. When the door closed behind them, Sophia and Matthew glanced at each other wary, upon hearing what could only be described as a high pitched squeak, followed by a loud crash. Shaking their heads the headed down the path and exited the garden.

"Goodnight Sophia" Matthew said quietly, giving her a small wave as he turned to head in the direction of his home. Sophia smiled and pulled him into a warm embrace, pressing him into her body. Matthew could smell the scent of her floral perfume, and blushed before hugging her back.

"I will see you tomorrow! Take care!" she said releasing him from the hug and walked off towards her house, further down the street.

* * *

Matthew had always been overshadowed by his twin brother, despite being the older of the two. Where Alfred had endless energy and charisma, teamed with his booming voice, Matthew was always quiet and soft spoken. He sometimes envied his brother, always watching him from the side-lines. What wasn't there to envy? He always had loads of friends, had no trouble when it came to meeting new people, any everyone always seemed to adore him. It was if he was an only child. It had always been that way as far back as Matthew could remember, more so when their parents had separated.

They had divorced when the twins were about six years old, claiming that they no longer could bear to live under the same roof anymore. It had been a long and gruelling divorce, which took a massive toll on the boys. They would often hide in their bedroom and listen to their parents argue into the early hours of the morning, Matthew cuddling his stuffed polar bear Kumajirou, as Alfred tried to comfort him. Since neither could agree on who was to have the twins, they arranged that Alfred would stay with their mother in America, whilst Matthew moved back to Canada with his father. They would go to each other's houses at the weekends and holidays, spending all the time they could together. However in that time Matthew noticed the change in Alfred. As they got older, Alfred was no longer the mischievous youngster he used to be, he had become louder, more brash and outgoing.

Matthew sighed and continued stirring the mixture in the bowl, the rest of the class happily working in pairs, and he was left to his own devices yet again. He wondered sometimes if anyone would even notice, or care if he just disappeared. He poured the mixture into one of the tins he had prepared earlier, and put the bowl into the sink, picking up a spatula to even the mixture out. He enjoyed his cooking classes, and put all of his creativity into his baking. The class were currently working on their own projects, and that if any ideas were good enough, would be entered into the Christmas competition at the end of the year. Matthew highly doubted his would make any sort of impression upon the teacher, who often even forgot to call his name at registration. Once he was satisfied that the mixture in the three tins were level, he picked them up and placed them into the pre-heated oven to bake, and began the task of cleaning his work area after he had taken note of the time on the classroom clock.

"U-uh, Alfred's brother?" A voice called stirring Matthews attention, he turned to face the teacher, a look of shock upon his face at being called.

"I-it's Matthew, sir" he said quietly, looking towards the floor nervously. He really hoped he wasn't going to be told off for something his brother had done again. The teacher barely heard what he said, since he talked so quietly, and dismissed his reply.

"Could you run these papers down to Ms Cavendish's office for me?" he asked, shoving the stack into Matthews arms. He glanced warily at the clock again, he didn't want to leave his cakes in the oven too long and burn them.

"Don't worry, I will keep check on your cake" The teacher said sensing Matthew's reluctance, "What are you making anyway?" he asked, picking up the project binder, from the worktop next to the shy Canadian boy.

"A three tired white chocolate macadamia cake, sir…with raspberries and white chocolate buttercream"

The teacher raised his eyes from the workbook, looking thoroughly impressed. Many of the other students had opted for easier options, such as chocolate fudge cake or Victoria sponge. He wondered if the student was up to the challenge, but regardless, it was not up to him what the students picked to do for their final piece.

"Well that sounds amazing! Now if you please would run those down, I would appreciate it" he glanced at the name on the front of the binder, "Matthew"

Matthew sighed and nodded, taking his leave from the room. At least the corridors would be quiet at this time of day, many students either in classes or the library. As he made his way down the corridor, he heard the hushed voices coming from one of the stairwells. Tentatively he made his way past them, just catching part of the conversation. A tall wavy haired third year had his hand pressed against the wall above a blushing brunette girl.

"_Tu es très belle ma chérie. Je me demande si les rumeurs sont vraies, et que vous êtes en fait facile de se mettre au lit?"_ he whispered, learning close to her ear, making the girl giggle. Matthew wondered if she had even realised what he had said to her, being as where he was brought up, he too could talk fluently in French, and understood everything that had been said.

"_Cela était assez désagréable de vous"_ Matthew said out loud, not realising he had done so until both the students turned to look at him. The blond man glared at him, almost threatening him not to translate what he had said. The girl looked up at the Frenchman, noticing his expression then to Matthew who stood nervously at the top of the stairwell.

"What did he say?" she asked, her voice holding an angry tone. Matthew quickly shook his head, spluttering out an apology.

"I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have interrupted" he said, trying to rush away. The girl called for him to stop, and he did not meeting the older students gazes.

"What did he say" she asked again. Matthew chewed his lip nervously before he replied.

"He said that you were easy to get into bed.."

And with that, the girl spun on her heal, and smacked the Frenchman right across his cheek, before storming off down the stairs.

* * *

**Bonus Content- The Game!**

Alfred glanced warily at the Russian sitting on his right side, watching his every move. Ivan was currently concentrating on beating the American by brutal force and determination. No matter how hard he tried, Alfred had yet to succeed on being on the giving end of a fatal hit. That didn't mean he couldn't though. He would observe the way the Russian moved, and learn to use the deadly skills he had seen.

That's right; Alfred would finally be the victor of the computer game currently playing out on the screen! No longer would he be defeated by the overbearing Russian, rather he would be the one doing the crushing!

"I can see you trying to work out my strategy, Alfred," Ivan muttered, violet eyes still glued to the television set, fingers tapping in endless patterns on the controller in his hands, "It seems I am the victor of this match, da?" He declared, pressing a few buttons which delivered a lethal combo to Alfred's on-screen character.

Alfred pushed up the silver framed glasses on his nose, and he stared devilishly at Ivan, "No! I demand a rematch! You must have cheated!" He turned to look at the Japanese man behind him, "C'mon, dude! Back me up here!"

Ivan laughed menacingly, "No, I just know the ways in which your strategy works. It's simple, really, when you look close enough," He explained, shrugging his shoulders lightly, "Now shove over and let Kiku have a go."

Alfred only moved when Ivan grabbed his shoulder and pushed him off the cushion on the floor with heavy force, "Alright, alright, I'm going..." He grinned, passing the controller to Kiku, as he took the American's place in front of the television. Taking a seat on the sofa behind, he glued his eyes to the screen, expecting Ivan to beat Kiku just like he did to himself.

However, he was most surprised when, within a few taps of the punch button, Kiku had brought Ivan's virtual character down, ending the first round.

"Dude, no way! How did you beat _that_?" He said, astonished by the easy victory, pointing at Ivan, who wore an expression of equal surprise, "I've been challenging him for hours and I've yet to beat him, you did it on the first round!"

Kiku just chuckled, "I have always had a flair for this game, Alfred-kun. I used to play it a lot." He nodded at Ivan, who pressed the button to begin the second round. This one lasted a lot longer, as the Russian was prepared for what Kiku threw at him.

Both battled with valiant strength, before Ivan's fingers went numb from all the button pressing and he caved in. Kiku came to yet another easy victory, his character slamming Ivan's to the floor. Text flashed up on the screen, signalling the end of the second round in giant red letters.

"How did he beat me?" Ivan mused, putting down the controller and scratching the back of his neck, "It seems I am no longer the master of this game, da?" He grinned, letting the loss of this round pass. It was only a game after all, and he would get revenge on Kiku when they played one of his games later.

Alfred jumped off the sofa with lightning speed and thwacked Ivan on the arm lightly, "Haha, dude, that totally means Kiku is the most awesome at this one now!" He grinned, "I could do better anyway..."

* * *

**A/N – **Hello again! Yay, another chapter! And Blue is back! Double Yay!

She wrote the first part of the story and the bonus content, whilst I made Matthew suffer a little after finishing a chapter of my **A Chance Encounter** story (shameless self-promotion….)! *devilish grin*

Again thanks to everyone who continues to read our story and support us! We love you guys!

Dead

**Translations**

**Tu es très belle ma chérie. Je me demande si les rumeurs sont vraies, et que vous êtes en fait facile de se mettre au lit? - **You are very beautiful my dear. I wonder if the rumours are true, and that you are actually easy to get into bed?

**Cela était assez désagréable de vous – **That was rather rude of you


	10. Meine Blume

**Trials, Tribulations and Textbooks**

**Chapter 10**

**Meine Blume/My Flower**

Francis was fuming. That meek second year had not only outsmarted him, he had ruined his chances of having company for the evening by translating his words for that beautiful brunette, that he had spent a week trying to win over. He'd been whispering sweet nothings, amongst other things, to her all week, knowing full well she knew nothing of the French language, but simply was caught up in his charms. He had no intentions of a relationship with her of course; having relationships required too much effort for his liking. He preferred to flirt to his heart's content, and the no strings attached sex that would follow his many conquests; gender not an issue for him, as long as he got what he wanted. In his own mind, 'how was he able to confine himself with the restrictions of a partnership? When there are so many beautiful people around him?'

No sooner than the girl had slapped him, the Canadian boy had darted off down the corridor. Francis had followed him for a short while, to discover he had gone to Ms Cavendish's office. He had contemplated waiting for him, purely to give him a piece of his mind for ruining his efforts with the girl, however he was in enough trouble as it was and didn't want to be caught when he got revenge upon him. Instead, he walked back down the corridor and gone to his lesson. He was meant to be in his class more than twenty minutes ago, however he wasn't one for punctuality, he preferred to be 'fashionably late' for most things, well, that was his excuse anyway. Not that he was concerned what the teacher would say, after a flirty wink and some sweet words, she would quickly forget about his tardiness as usual. Francis smiled and pulled his mobile out underneath the desk, quickly tapping a message to Gilbert and Antonio to meet him on the roof after school, he knew that with his two friends, they could all set about a plan to deal with the boy.

* * *

Elizaveta pushed her long wavy hair behind her shoulder, absentmindedly touching the small orange hair clip she wore above her ear. Looking to her left, she stole a glance at Gilbert sat beside the window. He was scribbling in that little black note book he carried with him everywhere, his face set in concentration. She highly doubted it had anything to do with the English lesson they were in, he never seemed to pay much attention in class, yet still manage to gain the highest scores, much to her annoyance. The German, or Prussian as he preferred to be referred as, was a wonderful writer, not that she or Gilbert for that matter would ever admit it. When they were younger, he would write little poems for her, and hide them in her backpack to find. Sweet words full of childish charms and dreams, forever claiming he would be her awesome knight. She smiled at the memory, now all he seemed to write were stupid and slightly perverse notes that upset her Austrian boyfriend. She sighed slightly and turned back to the teacher giving the lesson, startled to find the classes attention was on her, and she had no idea why.

"Miss Héderváry, I assume you have been giving me, your fullest attention? Now if you will please answer the question." The teacher said, clearly unimpressed by her lack of concentration. The students in the room snickered, as the look of confusion was still upon her face.

"I uh, sorry…could you repeat the question please?" She asked, blushing in embarrassment, panicking silently, knowing that even when the question was posed to her again, she wouldn't know the answer due to her daydreaming. She nervously looked between the teacher, and her open copy of _Shakespeare's 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'_.

"Miss Héderváry, in Act 1 – Scene 1, what is the relation—"

"Lysander and Hermia are in love with each other, but Hermia's father, Egeus, favors a second suitor, Demetrius, for his daughter. Demetrius has formerly been in love with Helena but has deserted her, although she still loves him." Gilbert said, his piercing red eyes fixed on her as he answered the question before the teacher had even finished repeating it. She turned to gaze at him in surprise.

"Thank you Gilbert, you are correct, even if the question wasn't for you to answer. Miss Héderváry please pay attention in my class, you cannot expect to reply on others to answer for you in your examinations."

Gilbert laughed sent a trademark grin at the teacher, "What would you do without me?"

"Have a lessoned need for headache medication, Gilbert" The teacher replied before turning back to the whiteboard and continuing the lesson. Elizaveta focused back on her word and listened intently to the teacher, not wanting to be caught out again, when a paper aeroplane landed on her desk. Looking warily at the teacher, she picked it up and opened it, flattening it on her desk.

'You owe me. How about lunch with the awesome me?' It read, flicking her eyes towards Gilbert, she saw his amused smirk. Picking up her pen, she wrote a reply on the paper, before throwing it back at his desk.

'You know I watch Roderich play piano in the music room at lunch, idiot'

'So what? He won't miss you this one time, come on, please?' Gilbert had written back, even adding a little picture of a crying face at the end of the message. Elizaveta sighed. What harm could it do? Roderich was usually so caught up within his music anyway, he barely acknowledged her presence with him. So she doubted he would notice her absence this one time.

'Fine, meet me by the sports field' she replied, throwing the paper back to Gilbert and watched his smile. It wasn't his usual grin, it was a softer smile, almost like one he kept a secret from anyone else; it was the smile he only showed to her. When he noticed her looking he planted the grin back on his face.

'You're paying' He mouthed to her. She rolled her eyes at him and turned back to her work. He always had to make some sort of remark, never able to take anything seriously, even when it was a comment that made him look stupid. He knew full well that all school meals were free. She couldn't help but smile.

* * *

Gilbert walked with a bounce in his step, his ipod blasting rock music into his ears as he passed through the corridors on his way to meet Elizaveta. As he passed the locker area he noticed two of the students locked in an argument, with the taller tanned boy of the two looking as if he was about ready to punch the one he was arguing with. Gilbert pressed the pause button on his music player and leant back against the lockers slightly down from the pair and listened grinning. He could see the smaller student, who was currently pushed back against the lockers, was Heracles Karpusi. The Greek boy had a reputation for his fascination with history, particularly surrounding his own country. Last year, the history club had held a presentation evening, to highlight the students work and research, of a topic of history of the students choosing. Generally speaking in was an evening not many attended through sheer boredom, but when he had done his presentation, he had left the students and teachers in awe of his knowledge. The teachers had doubted he would do so well considering he spent most of his classes asleep. The other boy was Sadiq Adnan, Heracles housemate and rival. The Turkish student was a ruthless competitor, and participated in many of the school teams. Gilbert could still remember when he had gone to watch Ludwig at the football team try-outs. It had ended up as a one on one battle between Ludwig and Sadiq, both refusing to accept any form of defeat that would knock their prides. It made him wonder why they were houses together again for their second year at the academy. It was well known that the two had a long standing hatred of one another.

From what Gilbert had heard of their arguing, it seemed that Heracles had decided to encourage his beloved cat claw Sadiq's best coat, after he woken him the day before by chucking a bucket of water over him, as he slept in their garden. Gilbert wondered how their quiet Japanese housemate put up with their constant bickering. He didn't know him very well, only through him being a close friend of Ludwig's, but he guessed he must be very patient or close to snapping one day.

Grinning he decided he had enough of watching the pair and sauntered over to them, neither noticing his approach due to their yelling.

"Geeze, the sexual tension is giving me shivers" he laughed as he gripped both of their heads and pushed them together, an evil grin formed upon his face as the sudden realisation came over the twos faces when their lips were pressed together. No sooner than he had disrupted their quarrel, he quickly darted down the corridor, Sadiq hot on his tail, yelling abuse and cursing at him in anger. Bolting through a group of giggling girls, he ran straight out of the doors of the main building, he quickly looked behind him and saw the Turkish boy had almost caught up with him. He ran in the direction of the fields when he saw Kiku, Ludwig and Feliciano walking towards him. He ran up to them, and hid behind them.

"Help me! I was minding my own business and he started chasing me!" Gilbert said feigning innocence as he stared up at his much taller, younger brother. Ludwig raised his eyebrows at his older brother, not believing one word that he had been told.

"Ludwig! There's a scary man yelling and running at us!" Feliciano squeaked as he latched onto Ludwig's arm, trembling as the angry Sadiq came barrelling towards them. As he got closer Sadiq's green eyes fell on the small Japanese man stood with the group, and he came to a sudden halt, his demeanour changing instantly, almost as if he had forgotten the reason he was angry in the first place.

"H-hello Kiku" he greeted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. Gilbert used the opportunity to sneak off and hurried towards the field, cutting across it upon seeing Elizaveta sat underneath one of the trees on the other side of the sports field. She was sat with her back leant against the trunk of the large tree, her hands clasped in her lap, watching as he approached her.

"The awesome me is here!" He proudly announced as he stood in front of her, before flopping down and sitting next to her. She glanced over at him as he rummaged through the bag of food she had brought with her from the cafeteria.

"Better late than never I suppose" she chuckled light-heartedly, "where were you anyway?"

"I was doing a service to lovers everywhere! My matchmaking services will be highly sought after!"

She laughed and picked up a sandwich from the bag, tearing the packaging open; she pulled out of the sandwich halves out and took a bite. The two of them sat there for ages in the shade of the tree, just chatting and passing the time. It almost felt like all those time they spent together when they were younger, back when things were much simpler.

When Elizaveta was younger, she was quite the tomboy, preferring to run around with wooden swords and muck about in the mud in her jeans and t-shirts rather than play with dolls and wear dresses. That was how Gilbert and she had met and became as close as they did, even if he was under the pretence that she was a boy. She had been sat in the small playground near her house upon one of the swings, not long after her parents had moved to England from their home in Hungary, just swaying and kicking the sand with her feet as she watched the other children playing together. She was too shy at that point to go over and join them, and had sat by herself, when the silvery haired boy had come up to her, wooden sword in hand.

"Hey dude, wanna join? We need an extra pirate or Francis will beat us again!" He asked motioning over to where three other boys stood. He grabbed her hand and pulled her off the swing and handed her one of the spare swords, "Come on! Or are you not brave enough?"

"Of course I'm brave! I could beat all of you wimps all on my own!" she cried, grinning and following Gilbert to his friends.

Elizaveta chuckled at the memory, and looked over at Gilbert who was staring at her his red eyes filled with curiosity.

"I was just thinking about when I beat you all in that sword fight when we were kids! You were all so weak to me!"

Gilbert scoffed, "As if, I'm too awesome to be beaten. I had to defend you for the most part!" he laughed.

"I really enjoyed those days! Do you remember when we spent hours making that 'secret hideout'? We got in so much trouble for wrecking your father's curtains from his study. They did make a good canopy though…it seems like ages ago now.." She mused.

"Yeah it was all good until you turned into a girl"

She raised her fist and punched a now laughing Gilbert in the arm playfully, as he mockingly put his hands up in defence. She couldn't help but somewhat agree with his statement though.

* * *

Everything had changed when she had reached the age of ten. Her mother had become tired of her running around with Gilbert and the others she had befriended, constantly coming home caked in mud and bruises from their escapes. She stopped letting her out with them, and made her start wearing those awful dresses she hated, insisting that she needed to learn to become a young lady, fitting of their family's status. Soon she was sent to etiquette classes with a private tutor, and forced to spend time with other girls of her mothers choosing. Gilbert had persisted in his attempts to see her, often climbing up the tree outside her bedroom window, just to sit and talk with her; sometimes just leaving those little poems on her windowsill when she wasn't home, for her. Despite their ages, they both knew they had feelings for each other, not that either of them knew what they were. When she was eleven, she was woken to the sound of tapping at her window. She had walked over to find Gilbert back in the tree, as he always would be, when he was sure that he wouldn't be caught. Happy at seeing her friend she had opened her window and let him in, laughing when he stood proudly announcing he was here to let her down from the tower she was locked in, '_Meine Blume'_ he had called her as hegrabbed her hands and twirling her around before placing the small orange clip into her hair. That was the same night she had her first kiss. A kiss, kept secret, even to this day, not that she was ashamed of it. She just wanted it to be theirs, something only they knew.

Her father had been furious when he had arrived home late from work and gone to her room, to bid her goodnight; to find her with Gilbert. He had yelled at them both, mainly at Gilbert however, for 'leading his girl astray'. She had tried to plead with him, tears streaming down her face, that he was her friend, her best friend! But he wouldn't listen, and threw Gilbert out the front door and slammed it shut, leaving him out in the cold of the night.

It was almost over a year until she had seen him again, at the academy in their first year. By that time, she had come to accept her parents' wishes for her, and tried her hardest to keep them happy, even if it wasn't what she wished for in her heart. She spent most of her time with Roderich, whom she had been introduced to at one of her father's work events. Her parents seemed to approve of him, almost eager for them to get to know each other, so she did just that. After a couple of months at the academy, Roderich had asked her parents for their permission to court her, much to their delight. Roderich was nothing like Gilbert, where the silver haired German was mischievous and adventurous; he preferred to spend time practicing the piano and writing music, intent on one day becoming a world famous composer. Over time she had become fond of him, of the gentle way he spoke and the courteous way he treated her, and much to Gilberts anger, had come to love him, burying her true feelings deep within her heart.

* * *

Gilbert looked over to her upon noticing how quiet she had become, lost in her thoughts and moved closer to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. Surprised at the lack of resistance she gave him, normally when he tried this, she would hit him with something.

"What's wrong, _Meine Blume?_" He asked softly, reaching up and brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. She looked up at him with a sorrowful expression, a tear slowly falling down her cheek.

"Oh Gil….why did everything have to be so difficult?" She asked despite her better judgment, nuzzling her cheek into his hand, taking in the warmth from his skin. She felt him gently brush away her tear with a finger, his eyes staring deeply into hers as he raised it to his own face and wiped the tear under his own eye.

"Please don't…when you cry, it makes me want to the same.." He whispered and he stroked her face compassionately and leant his forehead against hers and he closed his eyes. This was the real Gilbert, the Gilbert she knew and held dear, not the brash loud-mouthed idiot he liked to exaggerate when he was around other people. She felt a spark of emotion, she had buried long ago, with the sensation on his touch. Her heart speaking mountains of truth, as emotions flooded her thoughts, about her true feelings for her long-time friend. Slowly she raised her face up to his, her lips brushing over his. Gilbert opened his eyes to gaze into hers, full of passion and longing, and pressing his lips to hers. She leant into the kiss, taking comfort in his embrace before she shoved his away and quickly rose to her feet. He reached his hand out to grasp hers, to try and stop her.

"Wait, Eli, please—"

"I'm sorry Gil….I'm so sorry, I can't.." she whispered as she pulled her hand free and ran across the field towards the school, not noticing the figure that stood by the garden walls watching the scene in dismay, his fists clenched in anger.

* * *

**A/N **Hello! *wave* Sorry for the delay in updating the story! ^_^' I've been busy with work, and Blue is currently uninspired to write at the moment sadly : (

*nervous laugh*

As always, thank you to our kind reviewers and readers!

Please feel free to drop a comment and let me know what you think!

Dead

**Translations:**

**Meine Blume** – My flower


	11. Décide de se venger

**Trials, Tribulations and Textbooks**

**Chapter 11**

**D****écide de se venger****/Plotting revenge**

Francis trudged up the old, worn out stairs that spiraled towards the roof, annoyed with the world and grumbling to himself about paybacks and revenge. He flicked his shoulder length hair from his eyes, scowling at the faded pictures and graffiti adorning the otherwise plain walls.

As a rule, he was more of a lover than a fighter, but the incident that had caused his bad mood had almost made him turn against his own morals. The Frenchman had never really been in a situation that had required him to get revenge, or rather he'd never really cared enough to seek it; but he was willing to make an exception for that damned Canadian. He was starting to calm down about it, and was ready to flirt with some more girls, but the brunette had told her friends and they had been whispering about what had happened and been giving him disapproving looks all day. Never the less, this had decreased his luck with the ladies and he'd been cast back into a terrible mood.

Usually, anyone that understood the meaningless phrases of his mother tongue that he whispered in that fake loving tone of his, either ignored him and forgot or laughed and carried on with their own business. Never had they _translated _what he had said, to the person he was whispering to no less. Logic would say that the quiet boy had not meant to cause insult intentionally, but regardless, he had still done it. Still, he had a reputation to keep up with the Bad Touch Trio. He would need to _teach _the boy to be quiet in future and leave the Frenchman to his conquests.

He stomped up the last few steps, slamming the rooftop door open so hard it almost bounced back into his own face, and glared out into the late afternoon sun. Upon seeing his friends, the Spaniard and the German, his foul mood lightened slightly and he strolled over to them both. Noticing the green eyed boy was asleep, laying on his back, mouth open wide and drooling a little, he chuckled. The grey haired, slightly older boy, looked up from playing around with the little electronic device in his hands, which turned out to be his mobile, and connected eyesight with Francis, grinning a mischievous grin as they both knew what was going to happen. No words were ever needed when it came to mischief between the three, it was if they had a meeting of the minds and simply knew what one another were plotting.

Antonio lay on the ground, head resting on his bag, shaded from the glaring heat by a few discarded boxes around him and eyes closed in a light slumber. For now at least, since the red eyed German pulled out a bottle full of water, popped the cap off and poured it over the sleeping boy, all the while screaming, "Get up you lazy bastard! We came here to talk about Franny, not sleep!"

Francis roared with laughter at Gilbert's antics and the look upon the, now awake, Spaniard's face.

Antonio gave a ginormous yelp, leaping onto his feet and throwing himself at the first person he saw. This happened to be the Frenchman, "Damn you, imbécil!Now I'm soaked!_"_

He threw himself and Francis to the floor, himself on top, faces close, growling and trying to throttle Francis around the neck, whilst Francis was choking of both shock and laughter, "T-Toni, calm yourself, _bête_!" He prised the Spaniard from his neck, "If you wanted a hug, then you could have just asked, _mon cher_!" He winked, putting his hands up in a mocking defensive manner and blowing the angered boy a kiss.

"Oh, well since you offered!" He grinned, and leaned in to Francis' face, close enough to feel his breath on his own lips. Francis, wanting not to be outdone, raised his hand to Antonio's face, closing the gap between them that little more. It was almost as if the mood had changed between fighting to loving, that was until Antonio shoved Francis' face aside, laughing.

Meanwhile, Gilbert was doubled over, wheezing from lack of breath and crying with laughter, whilst still managing to capture a photo of Antonio's spur of the moment attack with his camera phone, "Toni, you should realise who you're trying to kill, before you kill them!" He coughed out between giggles - manly ones, of course, "You should have seen your face, you looked so _angry_."

He grinned again, pressing a few buttons on his mobile and a glint in his eye explained everything, "That's going on the internet!"

He raised one hand up behind his head and put the other by his hip, stretching in mock fashion of a model, "Oh, paint me like one of your French girls!" He laughed, earning a short glare from Francis, who was still lying on the floor, straddled by Antonio, "Anyway, why does the awesome me have to miss out on the fun, eh?"

Francis pushed Antonio off him, glaring at Gilbert, "Ooh! Francis, do you paint?" Antonio asked, completely oblivious to the film reference. The Frenchman simply patted him on the head, shaking his own sorrowfully.

"It's okay, Toni. Just forget it..."

Gilbert smirked at his friends, pulling out his mobile again, staring at the screen briefly, before closing it and putting it back in his hoodie pocket. Francis noted this, but stayed silent and mentioned nothing. He pushed the German to sit on one of the boxes, then did the same with Antonio, "How about we talk now?"

All three of them nodded, all the while Francis settled on the ground in-between the two boxes where the Spaniard previously slept.

"What's the problem anyway, Francis?" Antonio yawned, rubbing the back of his head, no longer bothered that his clothes were still soaking wet. With the afternoon heat and the sun shining brightly, they would soon dry off in any case.

Gilbert rested his chin in his hand, "Yeah, Franny. Why are you suddenly moping like a little girl? Did eyebrows steal your hairspray again?"

The Frenchman groaned, remembering the incident. It had happened last year, after one of Gilbert's infamous parties, this one being an end of year party, where the Bad Touch Trio had been celebrating the end of their second year and the year ones had been celebrating their first year of survival at the exclusive private Academy. Gilbert had invited as many people as possible and managed to get rid of his uptight brother for the evening, knowing that his younger brother would never had allowed the party to go ahead. Ludwig had been furious when he had found out that his mother had indeed not phoned that morning asking for help, when she'd answered the door, confused at his sudden arrival.

After copious amounts of alcohol, and far too many sugary drinks, Francis had decided to play a prank on the Englishman passed out in the German's living room. Granted, Francis was spurred on, probably more than necessary; by Gilbert and Antonio, however he was not one to miss an opportunity.

They had been trying to play pranks on him all evening, but he'd been guarded by the idiotic American most of the night. Alfred had spent most of the party intoxicated and running around in a cape, proclaiming that he was the hero and had somehow lost his trousers and shoes in the process. Much to everyone's surprise Kiku had joined him, similarly losing items of clothing; however he had managed to keep some of his modesty and had only misplaced his T-shirt. The boy had been sat next to the sofa, conversing with the generally quiet Japanese man about superheroes and video games, when Arthur had passed out in a drunken stupor.

Yao passed through the living room into the kitchen, calling Ivan's name. It was already three in the morning and Yao wanted to go home, knowing fully he would have to drag the drunken Russian with him and that would be difficult enough, considering he had consumed a fair amount of alcohol himself. Looking around the kitchen, he found himself staring into the back garden, out of the open window. He noticed that familiar scarf worn by his housemate poking out of the shrubbery. Without thinking, he grinned and yelled out in humor, "Oh my god! There's a commie in the bushes!"

Alfred's head whipped around, mid conversation, in the direction of the kitchen, dropping the sentence he had been saying to Kiku. He got up, bounding towards the kitchen, picking up speed, pushed Yao out of the way and leaped over the counter. He flew out of the open window, his cape billowing behind him, screaming, "You won't win this war, commie!" shortly followed by a giggling Kiku, who chose the option of going through the back door, pushing Yao in the other direction.

The Chinese man scowled at being shoved around, but then realized he should probably go and help his housemate out of the impending trouble, and also ran through the open door.

The Bad Touch Trio had been in the kitchen at the time, drinking beer and chatting, when the chaos had broken out. Realizing the annoying American was out of the way, Francis took the opportunity to peer into the front room, checking if the coast was clear, before grinning wildly back at his friends. Antonio was laughing and Gilbert was giving him the thumbs up, mouthing, "Do it!"

They all crept quietly into the living room, sniggering amongst themselves and making their way towards the sofa, where the Brit was half hanging off and drooling slightly. A certain person's brown bomber jacket had been laid over him when he had passed out rather early into the evening, unable to hold his liquor. They had tried to be as quiet as possible, to make sure the Brit wouldn't awake, even though he was snoring rather loudly.

Antonio scoffed, to be nudged by Gilbert, who shushed him and got his camera at the ready, "Some British bulldog..."

Francis pulled out two waxing strips from his pocket. He had commandeered them from one of the girls early on in the party, when he had been planning to dare one of the boys into waxing their legs, but this was just as good a use for them.

He placed the waxing strips on Arthur's eyebrows, careful not to wake him, with Antonio counting him down.

"3, 2, 1... Rip!" He shouted, at the same time, Francis pulled them off.

In retaliation for removing the Englishman's eyebrows, Arthur had replaced all of the Frenchman's hair products with dupes. There was glue in his hair wax, his spray turned his hair green and he was pretty sure his cologne now smelled like moldy old teabags.

The next time they had seen each other had been the following day, they stopped briefly in the corridor, and Ms. Cavendish, who happened to be passing, prepared herself for a potential fight. She had been rather surprised when the duo simply shared a short glare, but passed silently, one with no eyebrows, the other with bright green hair and smelling like teabags.

"Why does Lovi hate me? I haven't done anything..." Antonio mused, pulling Francis from the memory of that disastrous prank.

"Maybe, _mon cher_, because you pretty much molested him?"

Antonio looked blankly at his blond haired friend and whined, "Shut uuup! I did not!"

"That's not what I heard!" Gilbert stated, "Do you know how much of a telling off _I _got and it wasn't even _me_!"

After Ludwig had witnessed the scene in the Italian brother's kitchen, and after spending some time with Feliciano, he stormed home to have stern words with his own brother. He had found Gilbert sitting on the kitchen counter, headphones in and drinking straight from the milk carton - something which was one of many of Ludwig's pet peeves. He stormed over, grabbed the milk carton from the older German's hands as he was mid swig, managing to spill milk everywhere, pulled his earphones out and shouted at him.

"Firstly, stop doing that! Secondly, tell your _Dummkopf_ Spanish friend to stop going around molesting people!"

"What the hell, West?!" Gilbert screamed back, trying to regain his composure and squeeze the spilt milk from his trousers, "It had nothing to do with me!" He paused momentarily and stared down at Ludwig's serious face. His own expression turned calm and so much so the younger German actually thought they were going to have an intellectual discussion for once, until Gilbert opened his mouth to speak again, "He finally grew a pair, then?" He grinned.

Ludwig simply sighed, rolling his eyes at the lost cause that was his brother.

"We can deal with that later, on the other hand, we have revenge to plot against a certain Matthew Williams," Francis sighed.

"Who?" The other two asked confusion clear upon their faces.

The Frenchman looked at them ludicrously, "You should know! That shy Canadian boy," He waved his hands in the air. Antonio yawned sleepily and Gilbert peeked over the top of his mobile, one eye squinted from the glare of the sun.

"Oh!" Gilbert cried, realization drawn across his face. On the other hand, Antonio still had no clue, "Alfred's brother?!" The German asked, tapping away on his phone and nudging the Spaniard with his elbow.

"Yes, his brother! I was simply minding my own business, chatting up this very pretty girl when he came along and ruined everything!" Francis threw his hands up in a mix of both exasperation and frustration, "It took me a week to get where I had with her!"

Gilbert smirked from behind his mobile, whether it was at the object or at Francis' situation was unclear but he muttered, "Oh you poor baby..." In a mocking tone a mother would use to their child.

The blue eyed man glared at his friend briefly, sighing, "You're not listening, are you?"

"But we are!" Antonio cried, in defense of his German friend, who paid no attention to the growing tension. It was only when Francis grabbed his mobile from his hands that he looked up, crying out and falling off the box he was sitting on, whilst he tried to grasp the object.

"Hey, Franny! Give that back!" Gilbert growled, reaching out into the air from the floor where he fell, "Why would you do that?!"

Francis cackled evilly, "So, I have your attention now?" He held the mobile high out of reach, "What's so interesting about it, that you keep looking at it, anyway?" He turned the object around in his hands.

The German suddenly went silent on the floor, as if he didn't want to talk about it. Eventually he spoke up, "It's nothing."

However, Antonio saw through, "It's Elizaveta, isn't it?" he nodded, as if he was sure of it, "What did you do this time, kiss her?" He laughed, jokingly.

Gilbert turned an even darker shade of red, all the while still staying silent.

Francis budged forward, leaning over the silver haired teenager, "Gilbert? Why are you quiet? You... Didn't did you?"

The boy on the floor shook his head profusely, but his blush gave it away. The other two started to pelt him with questions; all the while Gilbert tried to change the subject back on Francis.

"So... About your problem, Francis!" He smiled, pulling himself off the floor and grabbing his mobile from the Frenchman's hands.

Antonio grinned at Francis devilishly, "Stop trying to change the subject, Gil. It's plain as day what happened, so you might as well spill the beans." Francis nodded in agreement, both of them turning their heads inquisitively towards the German.

"_Ich hasse euch beide. Gehen und sterben_," He groaned, glaring at them both as he re-sat on his box. He noticed that both of them were listening intently. It was true, even though they were boys, they liked the gossip just as much as the girls - not that either of them would ever admit that out loud.

Francis waved his hand in the air, "Yes, yes, Gil. We've already established that you want us to die. Now carry on, I want to know what happened before the sun sets, please." He glanced at thee yellowing sky, a few hours had passed since they'd first met up, and yet all they had done was mess around.

Gilbert rolled his eyes, "I saved her butt in English, we met up at lunch, I nicked her food, I kissed her. Simple." He waved his hands around dismissively, as if that was all there was to tell. The other two looked at him with raised eyebrows, "What? That's it!"

"Aw! But there were no details!" Francis cried, clinging onto Antonio as they both feigned crying, "Gilly, you're so-"

"It's quite sad to watch. People, who refer to themselves as men, sat gossiping like a group of giggling girls. It's rather pathetic, even for you frog." The voice spoke in a sharp tone, cutting off the trio's conversation. They turned to the source of the voice to see Arthur stood by the doorway to the roof, accompanied by Kiku.

Kiku had originally been the one to suggest the trip to the roof, intending to get some shots from higher grounds of the school as part of his photography project, and Arthur had agreed to go with him, intending to do his own schoolwork, that was until he had spotted the idiotic trio already occupying the rooftop. Arthur turned to his Japanese friend and sighed.

"Perhaps we could come another time?" he asked glaring over at the trio with clear distain upon his features.

"How about you take your eyebrows and go burn some food?" Francis called over, angered at the abrupt interruption the Englishman had brought to their conversation, and his general appearance on the roof in general. Arthur stuck his middle finger up in the direction of the blonde and turned on his heel quick to take his leave, not caring much for the upkeep of his gentlemanly behaviour when the man was around. Kiku sent a glance over at the boys before quickly following behind.

They watched the pair leave before turning back towards each other and grinning.

"So where were we on planning your revenge?" Gilbert asked Francis, leaning back against one of the walled areas of the roof and placed his hands behind his head

* * *

**A/N: **Hello all! Sorry for the delay, but we're back! And I (Blue) am fully back too! :) Reviews are loved and cherished!

~Blue and Dead.

Translations:

_Ich hasse euch beide. Gehen und sterben _- I hate you both. Go die. (German)

_Dummkopf - _Idiot (German)

_imb__é__cil! - _Idiot/Brute (Spanish)


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